Mirror Friend, Mirror Foe
by MizJoely
Summary: On the eve of Sarah's 18th birthday, Jareth appears to grant her an unspoken wish...but with what consequences? Now complete.
1. Demon Lover

**Chapter 1: Demon Lover**

The eve of Sarah's eighteenth birthday, she found herself gazing longingly into her bedroom mirror. Her goblin friends had just left her, but she felt an ache in her chest. Just once, just this one time, why couldn't _he_ make an appearance as well? _Because you bested him and won your little brother back from his evil clutches three years ago_, she chided herself. Then she reconsidered; according to what Hoggle had told her shortly after her return to "Aboveground", Jareth's clutches had never actually been evil; the events surrounding Toby's "kidnapping" had all been designed to give her what she claimed to want, structured around her precious book.

That had certainly left her reeling, and taken her months to even consider believing. But why would Hoggle lie to her? He certainly had no reason to try and cover for Jareth. Gradually she had come to accept her dwarf-friend's words, especially when Sir Didymus was willing to back him up, in his own peculiar (but charming!) way.

That must explain why she'd been vaguely disappointed that Jareth had never deigned to grace her with his presence, not once in three years of mirror-visits. Not so much as a an owl staring in at her from her window, and she'd deliberately left the window open on many, many nights, to Karen's on-going annoyance. Not that she went out of her way to annoy her step-mother, at least, not any more; she'd long since come to terms with her father's second wife and the Labyrinth had more than made her learn to appreciate her little brother.

Of course, the little rat still did things to drive her crazy, but that's what brothers and sisters did. Or so she'd been told by her friends who'd had brothers and sisters a lot longer than she had. Once she was willing to listen to them, she'd certainly had her eyes opened.

Still, she found herself wishing for some way to…well, apologize, if that was the right word. Make things right between herself and the Goblin King…and wasn't that a crazy thing to think! "Sarah, you are certifiably nuts!" she told herself as she changed for bed. Jareth was the one who ought to apologize to her, and that absolutely did not seem his style. No matter what Hoggle said.

She blew a sigh as she turned off the light and crawled into bed. "Jareth, I just wish you and I could find a way to connect, now that I know you're probably not as bad as I thought you were," she murmured as she settled onto her left side.

Besides, she'd never forgotten how it felt to dance in his arms, during her peach-induced sojourn into one of his magic bubbles. Or was it baubles, she wondered sleepily as she drifted on the edge of dreamland. A shiver went down her spine as her mind spun lazy images of herself in that dress now that she could actually do it justice, now that she'd actually been willing to admit that she might be as pretty as some of the boys in her high school had insisted they found her to be. Not to mention the ones in college who'd been, how did her friend Megan put it, "sniffing around her" this semester.

Ah, Megan and her delicate way of putting things. "Wonder what she'd make of Jareth," Sarah mumbled with a sleepy smile. "Probably jump his bones as soon she saw him. He's _way_ sexier than any of the guys either of us have ever dated…"

Sarah's eyes popped open as she finally acknowledged why she wanted to see the Goblin King again. "Oh my God," she groaned, sleep forgotten in the rush of revelation. "He's sexy. I think he's sexy. I want him to see me now so I can show him I'm not a kid any more. How crazy is that?"

"Not crazy at all," came a voice from the darkness, somewhere near her closet door. A voice that sent shivers down her spine, that caused her to clutch her covers nervously and strain her eyes to make sure her ears weren't playing tricks on her.

Because that voice, that unforgettable voice, was one she hadn't heard in three years. "Jareth," she breathed as he appeared at the foot of her bed, as if the strip of moonlight there had brought him into existence.

"Sarah," he acknowledged, a hint of amusement in his voice now. She stared, unable to tear her eyes away. He looked exactly the same, down to the dark clothing he wore with such flair, the spiky blonde hair, the exotically tilted eyes…well, maybe less make-up, which she found reassuring for some reason. But everything else, the swagger in his step, the cocky angle of his head as he traded her stare for stare, the slight smile on his face…all of it. Exactly as she remembered it.

"You haven't changed," she finally blurted. "Why are you here?"

"You have," he replied to her statement, apparently choosing to ignore the question that followed. He swept around the bedpost and sat, uninvited, next to her. She backed away, uncertain, then reached out to touch his arm, snatching her hand back immediately. Yes, he was real; she could feel the leather of his sleeve, the heat emanating from his body. "Changed for the better, I'd have to say," he added with a deepening of his smile.

Sarah felt a flush infuse her features; had he been reading her mind? "Why are you here?" she whispered, still clutching the covers to her chest.

Not taking his eyes from hers, Jareth reached forward and gently pushed the blankets down, lowering her hands until they rested on the mattress. Still holding her enthralled with his mismatched (beautiful) eyes, he leaned forward. "I came because you finally wanted me to," he whispered, finally turning his head so she felt his breath on her cheek as he grazed her ear with his lips. "I came because you finally….wanted me." His lips moved down her neck, and Sarah felt a moan escape her own lips.

Jareth's hands were caressing her arms, pulling her closer, and she wasn't resisting, she was letting him enfold her, letting his lips continue to trail their way from neck to collarbone, then back up the column of her throat until finally capturing her mouth with his own. Her eyes closed and she opened her mouth, allowing him entry, and knew she would deny him nothing. This was what she wanted, what she'd finally been able to admit to herself and thus to him. This was why he could finally be here, be with her, be touching her with his miraculously ungloved hands, slender and gentle as they undid the buttons on her light summer nightgown and slid the now-gaping neckline down over her arms.

They pressed together, skin to skin; his clothes had magically melted away and hers were well on their way to vanishing due to more conventional means; Jareth had released her just long enough to free her arms, and she wrapped them around his shoulders, pulling him closer, willing him to make as free of her body as he wanted, and he answered that need, lowering his mouth to first one breast, then the other, teasing her nipples with tongue and gentle nips of perfect teeth until Sarah cried out in need, then clapped her hands to her mouth in terror of being heard by someone outside this room.

Jareth pulled back just enough to study her terror-filled eyes; sensing somehow exactly what had frightened her, he held up one hand. On it rested a single perfect crystal orb. He blew gently, setting the orb into flight, light as the bubble it so resembled, appearing as fragile in the moonlight. Sarah followed it with eyes now filled with wonder, watching as it floated above her head, as it suddenly expanded, growing around them, surrounding the bed in an opalescent shimmer. "There, love, no need to fret. No one will hear us," Jareth said soothingly, then put hands and mouth back to work on piquing Sarah's every sense, filling her once again with wordless needs and answering those needs almost as soon as they were felt.

"Sarah," Jareth breathed, laying her back gently and leaning above her, once again holding her captive with his glorious, mismatched eyes. "Sarah, there will be pain, and there will be blood." She nodded, understanding; in many ways, losing virginity was like giving birth, she'd known that for years and could think of it now without squirming in embarrassment.

"I'll get over it," she whispered back, although she understood there was no need for low voices, not now, except the moment seemed to invite a tone of confidences shared. A delicious shiver ran down her spine; lover's confidences. Her demon lover had come to claim her now that she was ready for him, and she was impatient for the moment to come.

Jareth laughed, a low sound, as if he, too, understood her need for secrecy even while wrapped in the ultimate soundproofing. Magic could be ugly and cruel, but it could be beautiful, too. Sarah understood that now as she never could have at fifteen, crying "It's not fair!" as if no one had ever felt that way before. Life wasn't fair, either Above or Underground, she knew that now, and suddenly realized that was another reason Jareth could be with her now. She joined him in his laughter, then silenced them both with a kiss that ended with her nightgown and underpants in a heap on the floor, Jareth's lean, sinewy length against her, the heat of his own desire matching her own.

The pain and blood came, as warned, but flushed themselves away so swiftly Sarah barely noticed, washed on a tide of ecstasy like none she'd never experienced, an explosion of sensation that left her crying out, fingers digging into Jareth's shoulders, head thrown back, eyes wide with stunned revelation. So this was what Megan was talking about…

"I can only stay 'til the moon leaves your window, Sarah," Jareth murmured against her ear a timeless moment later, when she'd felt him delivered of his own quivering release, body now relaxed against hers. She wondered if his heart was racing, her own certainly showed no signs of slowing down, and she nodded as she realized he was warning her. The night was not endless, there was a limit to their time together, which tore her apart, but she understood. She accepted. A foot in two worlds since those thirteen hours three years ago, and Jareth belonged so much to the other world that she knew there was no way he could stay in hers.

"If this is all we get, I can live with that," she said, ignoring the sudden jump her heart made as she forced herself to believe her own words.

Jareth looked at her with an unreadable expression in his eyes. "If it is," he murmured in seeming agreement, then captured her lips once again with his own, and Sarah surrendered herself to the moment. The only moment they would ever have, she understood that now. A foot in two worlds, a demon lover for one incredible night, then back to mundane reality. At least it was a reality she'd grown to accept, as she'd fought against it in childhood. Compromise was part of growing up, and she'd managed to grow up all in one incredible visit to the Underground world of the Labyrinth.

It never even occurred to her to ask if there could be more, and Jareth was content that it be so. She would have a choice to make after this night, although he refrained from telling her about it; the rules had to be obeyed, even by the Goblin King, else he surrender his power and his life. But Sarah need not be burdened by such knowledge, not tonight. Soon, but not while he was so busy giving her what they both so ardently desired: a perfect night of love.

In a month, she would discover the price of that perfect night, the price he was destined to exact. How she dealt with it would seal both of their fates…forever.

* * *

_A/N: Welcome to my first foray into the world of Labyrinth. Hope you enjoyed it so far! Additional Note: The title of this story is, ahem, "borrowed" from George Takei's novel of the same name, although the contents bear absolutely no resemblence to the original in any way, shape, or form. I own none of the characters of the Labyrinth, get nothing from this but the satisfaction of putting words to paper, and, of course, reviews._


	2. The Morning After

**Chapter 2: The Morning After**

"Sarah! Sarah, you're going to be late…oh!"

Sarah stared blearily at her step-mother as she skidded to a halt, her hand still on the door knob to Sarah's room as her voice raised itself to a surprised squeak on her last word. "Karen? What's…oh." She looked down at herself and blushed as she realized she was naked. She yanked the covers up with a squeak as Karen backed up and half-closed the door.

"Sarah, if you insist on sleeping in the nude, at least remember to lock the door! What if I'd been Toby? Anyway, you're going to be late for school, you must have overslept your alarm." With that, the door closed fully and Sarah plopped her pillow over her head with a groan.

"Great, just great," she muttered. "I had the most fabulous dream…wait, why _am_ I naked?!?" she asked herself as she abruptly sat up. "Oh. My. God." She lifted up the sheets to peek down. The sheets were stained, as had happened once or twice when she first started having her monthly "visits" from Mother Nature. However, she wasn't due for that particular event for another three weeks, so that could only mean… "It wasn't a dream," she said, sliding weakly to her back to stare up at her ceiling. "Happy eighteenth birthday," she muttered darkly. "I just gave up my virginity to the Goblin King."

She pulled the covers over her head, then shot upright and scrambled to her feet. Opening her door a crack, she yelled down the hall: "Karen, I'm not feeling well, I don't think I'll go to school today!" It was a week away from finals and all her classes at the local Community College were strictly in review mode; missing a day wouldn't kill her.

She slammed the door shut after hearing an affirmative shout back, leaning against the wood with a sigh. Then she looked down at herself; with a dismayed gasp, she locked her door and dashed back to her bed and threw herself under the covers.

Seconds later she gasped again and threw the blankets off, quickly followed by the sheets. The stain, she had to get rid of the stained sheets, she had to, she had to…she had to get some clothes on, for Pete's sake! Her nightgown lay in a heap by the foot of the bed, along with her panties from last night. She hesitated, then threw them both into her hamper and yanked fresh things from her dresser, underwear, bra, t-shirt, a pair of faded jeans. Then she went back to her frantic stripping of the bed, comforter on one side, pillows in a heap at the foot, sheets crumpled up and thrown aside until she could figure out how to sneak them into the laundry without Karen noticing.

Karen, who knew Sarah's cycle as well as her own, since they'd gone into sync years ago, would realize immediately what the stained sheets meant. Although she'd been careful not to pry into her step-daughter's private life in recent years, somehow Sarah knew that losing her virginity in the house with her parents and Toby sleeping only doors away was not something either of her parents would take lightly. And Dad would be dragged into it, no doubt about that, either!

Sarah groaned and plopped herself onto the now-bare mattress. "The Site of my Sin," she groaned melodramatically, then burst into laughter at herself. "The Site of my Most Fantastic Night Ever!" she corrected herself, still chuckling. Yeah, Karen and Dad would be upset if they found out she'd had sex. In the house. With them and Toby sleeping just down the hall. But they'd be even more upset if they knew it had been an older man. A much, much older man…the giggles threatened to overwhelm her again, and she stuffed her hand into her mouth to stifle them. Hysteria. Great, just what she needed.

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Sarah sat up, got to her feet and unlocked her door. Sticking a cautious head out, she looked around, while wondering exactly why she felt like she needed to be cautious in the first place. No one. Karen and Toby must still be downstairs, and Dad had long ago left for work. Feeling sheepish, she closed the door and contemplated the heap of sheets, then plopped herself on the bare mattress and stared up at her ceiling.

Why had Jareth come to her? _Because you wanted him to._ But why? She'd certainly wanted him to at least speak to her over the past three years, to explain himself or allow her to explain herself, if explanations were due on either side. Hoggle and Sir Didymus didn't seem to think so, but she wasn't exactly sure she agreed. _No, not even after last night_, she chided herself.

She was still staring at the ceiling, trying to wrangle her emotions into some semblance of order, when a tentative knock came on her door. She sprang to her feet and rushed to the door, not wanting Karen or even Toby to see the stripped bed. Especially since it was still one of the chores reserved for Saturday mornings. "Yeah?" she called, trying to sound unhealthy without resorting to fake coughing or retching sounds.

"Honey, I have to take Toby to pre-school. Do you think you'll be up to picking him up afterwards, or should I get him? I just have a few errands to run that'll probably take longer than two hours, so I need to know if I should space them," Karen explained, then waited.

Sarah hesitated; did she really want to have to deal with the Rug Rat today? Heck, why not. "Um, I think I'll be OK. I just need to get a little extra sleep. But I'll set the alarm."

"OK, thanks. Oh, and don't forget about dinner tomorrow. Sorry it can't be on your actual birthday, but your dad has that conference dinner tonight," Karen added apologetically.

"No problem," Sarah called back, adding a heavy yawn for emphasis. "See you." She waited an extra second, then grinned as she heard Karen walking away. Hugging herself, she curled up in her favorite chair and allowed memories to wash over her.

**oOo**

Karen frowned as she walked back down the hall, calling to Toby to hurry up and brush his teeth. Her little man, so independent now. Devoted to his big sister, and she'd finally started to return that devotion. After that horrible night three years ago, fighting and stomping and blaming her "evil step-mother" for all the ills of the world…Karen did not miss those days. She and Sarah got along rather well nowadays, and there hadn't been a tantrum about babysitting and responsibility since her step-daughter was fifteen.

They'd turned a corner after that epic battle, although why that should have been the catalyst for a truce rather than a ramping up in hostilities Karen had never been able to figure out. Neither had Sarah's father, and after a while, when it seemed the truce would hold, they'd stopped trying.

The frown deepened, but not at worries over past behavior. Sarah had, indeed, turned into a responsible and mature young lady, especially since starting college; so why did Karen find herself so uneasy today? It wasn't Sarah cutting classes, although she wasn't too keen on that. The week before finals was synonymous with review classes and relaxing of the rules, and no doubt a late night reading or watching TV was involved as well. But the unease lingered until finally dispelled by Toby yelling for help with a recalcitrant sneaker tie. Precocious and intelligent, at nearly four he was already at kindergarten level for a lot of things, and stubbornly, he'd insisted on learning to tie his sneakers "Jus' like Sarah," no matter how the intricacies of laces continued to elude him.

**oOo**

Upstairs, Sarah peeked through her curtained window, watching as Karen's car backed out of the driveway and disappeared down the road. Then she turned to her bed and swept the tell-tale sheets into a bundle, practically dancing her way down the stairs to the basement. She had plenty of time to wash and dry and get them back on her bed before having to pick the Rug Rat up. And if Karen was going to be out running errands, so much the better. Toby generally resisted naps, but could usually be persuaded to lie down and look at picture books for an hour or two after lunch.

Which would give her an additional hour or two to just sit back and bask in the glow of last night's incredible events. Tangled emotions or not, she'd decided to enjoy what had happened, accept it for what it was: the most incredible night of her life.

"It was real," she murmured as she settled onto the couch, half an ear open for the sound of the washer reaching the end of its cycle. If Karen came home unexpectedly, for whatever reason, then Sarah was prepared with a guilty story of spilling soda on her sheets, a safe lie now that the blood was being soaked away in the cold waters of the first wash cycle.

"It was real," she repeated, a slow grin spreading across her face. She stretched, then grimaced as she realized she was feeling a little…uncomfortable, in one particular spot. The euphoria of realizing her dream was real, the panic over the evidence needing to be hidden, combined with waiting for Karen and Toby to leave had masked the discomfort, but now it was making itself quite evident.

"Shower time," she decided, hauling herself to her feet. A nice, long, hot shower should take care of things, and she shivered as her mind flashed her an image of herself and Jareth sharing just such a luxury together. But no, she couldn't think that way; they'd had their moonlit moment, and it was over now. He'd recognized her desire, her need for him, and had indulged her, that was all. _He called me "love,"_ her mind whispered, but she shook her head, trying to dislodge the thought. An endearment, nothing more; plenty of men declared love when they only meant lust.

_The Goblin King isn't just any man,_ her traitorous mind argued back as she trudged up the stairs to the bathroom. _No,_ she agreed as she stripped off her clothes and started the water. _Not a man at all, not a human man, anyway._ But human, male, _man_ enough to set her nerves tingling even now, hours after she'd woken up to find herself alone, the moon settled beyond the limits of her window, the limits of their time together defined by light and darkness.

Much like Jareth himself; light and darkness, whimsy and caprice and so much more than she ever could have understood at fifteen. That she barely understood any better at eighteen... _"I've exhausted myself trying to live up to your expectations."_ She remembered the words so clearly, and now, finally, understood what he meant. Now that her memories weren't clouded with terror and confusion, she could see why Hoggle insisted the Goblin King wasn't evil, or at least, not entirely. He was so much more than that, a complex, dangerous (_incredibly sexy_), male. She turned in the shower, allowing the water the cascade down her back as her thoughts continued to drift, turning over the enigma that was the Goblin King. Her demon lover.

Alone with her thoughts, Sarah smiled and remembered.

**oOo**

Alone in his throne room, Jareth smiled and remembered along with her, even as he watched her through the threads of steam that threatened his view through the bathroom mirror. Sarah habitually left the shower curtain open just enough for him to see her, and he'd watched her many, many times over the past three years. She would no doubt be horrified to know that, and perhaps he would tell her sometime, just to see if her reaction would be anger or mortification. Either way would be intriguing to witness; equally intriguing would be her reaction to his admission that he'd enjoyed watching her form develop and ripen to its current delectable state.

Hoggle and the others, of course, were strictly forbidden from visiting her in any mirror other than the one in her bedroom. Sarah herself had gotten into the habit of covering it whenever she changed clothes, this morning being a notable exception. His smile deepened as he remembered her panic as she realized there was tangible evidence of their liaison to be dealt with.

His smile melted to a frown as he waved a hand to erase Sarah's image, enticing as it was. When the other evidence of their activities made themselves manifest, she would be furious with him, of that he had no doubt whatsoever. "Sorry, my love, but the game is rigged against us both this time," he murmured, restlessly spinning three crystal globes in one black-gloved hand as he gazed out the nearest window, the one he'd temporarily turned into a portal to her bathroom mirror. "_The one who bests you at the Labyrinth will be the one to deliver you an heir,_" he recited. "I thought it meant Toby. I was wrong, and you will no doubt be calling me to you with much less desire in your voice the next time. One month from now."

At least she would have that one last month of peace, of freedom from the turmoil of choice. At least he'd been able to give her that much. Being entangled in prophecy was a harrowing place to be for either mortal or Fay, and he was happy to have been able to work that last month of innocent happiness into the web.

He raised an invisible glass ceilingward in a toast that mocked himself as much as her, lips twisted in a bitter smile. "Happy birthday, Sarah. I hope you like the present I've been forced to give you."

Prophecy was a bitch.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

_A/N: Going away for a short vacation, but I promise to pick this back up when I return next week. Thanks for reading and especially, thanks for reviewing!_


	3. Fruits of Their Labors

**Chapter 3 – Fruits of Their Labors**

Summertime, and the livin' was easy. A little too easy for Sarah's taste; she still hadn't found that second job she so desperately needed. The one she had waiting tables covered gas money and going-out-with-Megan-on-Friday money and not much more. She'd started the day after her last final and was already sick of it, but she had an obligation to try and earn enough to pay for her books for next semester, a promise she'd made and determined not to go back on. Karen and Dad were paying for everything else related to school and home, even covering car emergencies the few times they came up. Gas and books and her own entertainment were her responsibility, nights out with Megan and other casual friends, and Karen looking aside and pretending not to notice when Dad slipped her an extra twenty at the end of the week when tips were light.

Sarah sighed. Tips were always light at the diner. The other waitress, Stacy, advised her to shorten her skirt and lower her neckline a little, but Sarah knew that route wasn't for her. It would get more tips, maybe, but also a lot more attention that Sarah definitely wasn't interested in. Not right now, anyway; not with memories of her incredible night with Jareth still so fresh and new in her mind that she dreamt about it every night, allowed flashes of those memories and dreams to invade her conscious mind at odd moments of the day. And none of the losers at the diner would ever be able to measure up. Hell, none of the guys Megan was constantly introducing her to would ever be able to measure up.

_Would anyone ever be able to?_ She found herself wondering bleakly as she wiped down the final counter and waved good-bye to Stacy and Mac, the cook. "See you tomorrow!" she called out, then plodded over to her car, undoing her apron and tossing it into the passenger seat. She leaned back with a sigh, massaging her aching neck. The last two days had been hell for her muscles for some reason, and her mornings were spent in a slight wave of nausea that dissipated only after some dry toast and weak tea. "Must be getting the flu," she decided, shaking her head and turning the key to start the car. "Great."

Shaking off her blossoming bad mood, she determined that she wouldn't let a little physical discomfort get her down. If she needed to spend the rest of the day in bed, so be it. It was only 3:00; she would cancel her plans with Megan for tonight, take a nice hot bath, and crawl back into bed with some more tea and a dose of Nyquil and see what the morning brought.

Unfortunately, what the morning brought was more of the same, only worse; nausea graduated from light to heavy with no warning, tea and toast rapidly making a return journey up her throat and into the toilet. Wiping her face with a cool cloth afterward, she crawled back into bed and picked up the phone to call in sick, something she hated doing after being on the job for less than a month, but no one wanted a barfing waitress.

Reassured by Stacy that she was doing the right thing, Sarah huddled under the covers, wondering miserable thoughts along the lines of "why me?" and "it isn't fair!", echoes of her younger self finally coaxing a weak smile from her. She dozed, glad that Karen, Dad and Toby were off on a week-long vacation, leaving her in peace. She'd already made it clear that she wasn't going to put off looking for another part-time job and lose out on the few tips she did make at the diner, no matter how tempting a week long stay at a resort sounded. When they did the end-of-summer trip in August, maybe she'd be able to go then, although camping wasn't exactly her idea of a grand time. But Toby wanted to do it, so the rest of them claimed to be game. The idea of Karen in hiking boots cooking over an open fire was giggle-inducing, at the very least. And Dad trying to teach Toby how to fish at the same time he was learning himself…Sarah smiled.

The smile dimmed as another wave of nausea washed over her. Gritting her teeth, she rode it out until it subsided. At least she wasn't sick at the resort, missing out on beach time and sailing lessons and feeling sorry for herself. No, it was better this way, just missing a day of work and not making the rest of the family miserable along with her.

Karen and Dad had both been impressed by her decision to stay home and the reasons behind that decision, although Toby, not so much. He'd pouted and begged right up to the last minute, and she'd almost weakened a time or two, but he was her every-day reminder of exactly what sacrifice meant, and she refused to un-learn that lesson at this late date.

With a groan she turned on her side. Although it would have been nice if Karen and Toby were home with her right now, bringing her ginger-ale and saltines and checking up on her every now and then, the way they usually did when she was sick… "Get over it, Sarah Williams, stop being such a baby," she muttered to herself in disgust. "You're eighteen now. Who's gonna fuss over you when you move out on your own?"

That thought brought her up short; who, indeed? If she couldn't stop herself from comparing every guy who asked her out against Jareth, how was she going to ever find someone to spend the rest of her life with?

The groan that escaped her this time had nothing to do with physical discomfort; indeed, the nausea finally seemed to be ebbing, releasing its hold on her body with reluctance, but releasing it nonetheless. "I just have to give myself time," she muttered, rubbing her eyes and pulling the blankets over her head. "It's only been about, what, a month? I just need a little more time…"

Closing her eyes, she finally managed to drift back to sleep.

**oOo**

Jareth shook his head and "tsked" to himself silently. He'd held quiet hopes that things weren't going the way he feared, the way prophecy dictated, but Sarah's evident physical distress told him otherwise. No, fate was making sure things moved along exactly as planned, as _predicted_, and there was nothing he could do to stem the tide.

He couldn't stop things, he couldn't change them, he couldn't warn her. "It's not fair," he found himself muttering, then smiled a bitter grimace of a smile as he realized who he sounded like. He'd long since learned how unfair life was, even for a virtual immortal; trapped by the rules of a magical realm that had little to do with the rules of the mortal universe, nothing to do with physics and logic and everything to do with magic that defied physics and logic but still followed its own rules. And, when prophecy was involved, its own course as pre-set as any river making its relentless way to the sea.

**oOo**

Sarah groaned and rolled over; not _again_! "I thought I was over this," she muttered as she dashed to the bathroom to relieve her stomach of its contents for the second day in a row. At least she didn't have to go to work until 11:00; it was a little after 8:00 now, she could probably squeeze in a quick visit to the doctor's if she left right now…if her stomach would let her leave.

Her stomach, innocently enough, calmed down enough for her to drive herself to Dr. Langdon's office. Even without an appointment, she knew he'd see her; he'd been the family doctor ever since Sarah was born.

Linda, the receptionist, offered a sympathetic smile as Sarah described her symptoms and took a seat in the waiting room. There were only a few others ahead of her; when her name was called she rose obediently and headed for the exam room. The nurse took her vitals, re-listened as Sarah listed the symptoms, scribbled a few notes in her file and left her in peace for nearly a half an hour.

When Dr. Langdon bustled in, all apologies, Sarah had half-fallen asleep on the exam table; with a start, she sat back up, then to her horror felt the nausea return. She barely made it to the bathroom, then crept back to the exam room, full of her own set of apologies.

"Don't worry, Sarah," Dr. Langdon assured her with a smile. "At least you didn't christen my shoes like you did when you were six!"

Sarah flushed, but smiled back. Once again she explained her symptoms, or at least, her _other_ symptoms, then sat back and endured all the tongue-depressing and ear-examining and lung-and-heart-listening doctor's visits usually entailed. Once he was done with the preliminaries, Dr. Langdon stepped back and favored her with a serious look. "Sarah, you're, what, eighteen now?"

She nodded warily, not sure what was coming, but the doctor didn't make her wait long. "Are you sexually active? Have you seen your GYN recently?"

Sarah stared at him, then flushed darker than any childhood reminiscence could color her, answering the easier question first. "I'm due for my annual in a couple of months." Her color deepened as she looked down at her dangling feet. "Sexually active, well, uh, kind of, I mean, there was this one time, but it was only that one time…"

He nodded, his expression even more serious than before. "Forgive me for asking, but did you use any kind of birth control?"

Sarah shook her head mutely. No, she hadn't even thought of protection that night. Even afterwards, when she should have thought of it, worried about the consequences of unprotected sex, she hadn't. Why should she? With a magical lover she just assumed…magical protection. Before she could dredge up the nerve to ask why he wanted to know, Dr. Langdon told her.

And she sat there, numbly, as he found a urine sample container and directed her back to the bathroom. The numbness continued as she filled the container, gave it to the nurse, re-took her seat on the edge of the exam table, and waited.

It only disappeared after she'd driven home and made her way upstairs to her room, after hearing the dreaded words in Dr. Langdon's sympathetic voice.

"I'm afraid the test is positive. Sarah, you're about three weeks pregnant."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

_A/N: OK, I fibbed. Here is one more chapter before I go off to no-computer-land for a few days. Enjoy, and don't forget that reviews are the stuff of life here on fanfic dot net!_


	4. Tears and Recriminations

**Chapter Four – Tears and Recriminations**

"Jareth! Jareth, you bastard, you better answer me! Jareth!"

Sarah stared into the mirror, tears running down her cheeks. "Jareth," she said, a note of hopelessness entering her voice. What if he didn't answer? She reached up to pound her fury on the mirror's surface, only to have her wrists grasped firmly from behind.

With a gasp she snapped her head around to see who had trapped her so, but the black gloves had given him away, at least to her subconscious mind. "Jareth," she whispered in relief, then stiffened her spine and shook off his grip, whirling to face him head on. "You bastard! You got me pregnant!"

If she thought to shock him, she was the one shocked as he simply nodded. "I did."

"Wait, you know I'm pregnant? How?" This was too much; how could he know? There was no mirror in the doctor's exam room for him to spy on her, and she hadn't said anything about her condition until just now. So how…

Jareth sighed. This was going to be every bit as difficult as he expected it to be. "Sarah, perhaps if you sit down, we can discuss this like civilized people."

She cut him off with a semi-hysterical bark of laughter, pushing past him to stand staring out the window. Staring at nothing in particular, but nothing in particular was far better than staring at him right now. "Civilized people! That's a laugh. Since when is the Goblin King 'civilized people'?"

"Since never," he conceded. "At least, not by human standards." Ah, yes. Human standards. She was human, he wasn't. So how the hell could she be pregnant by him? She demanded an answer to that question, fighting an irrational hope that this was all some horrible mistake.

No such luck. "The same way you could be pregnant by a mortal," he chided her, a bite coming to his voice as she continued to refuse to look at him. "Human or Fae, we both have…certain attributes in common." He allowed a certain irony to enter his tone as he asked: "Surely you haven't forgotten what passed between us the eve of your eighteenth year?"

"I remember," she offered in sullen retort. "I should have known you weren't just indulging me, that you had an ulterior motive." She turned to face him at last, and he felt his breath catch at the anguish in her eyes. "How could you do this to me?"

"How could I not?" he replied, to her utter mystification. "Prophecy dictated, and I danced to its dictates." He allowed a rueful smile to soften his haughty features. "We both did, and I knew it and you did not. For that, I truly am sorry, but even the Goblin King has rules to follow. Telling you what I already knew was against those rules."

"But getting me pregnant wasn't?" The despair was buried beneath indignation, fury, and terror. "What are you talking about? Destiny? Even I don't believe in that." Not anymore, although she had a sneaking suspicion that she might not have wanted to drop that particular belief so quickly.

"Getting you with child was the fulfillment of prophecy," Jareth corrected her. "The means by which I did so…that was entirely up to me. And I left it up to you, waited for you to want me, to need me. I could have simply taken you by force," he added, so casually that at first she wasn't sure she heard him correctly.

When she did understand his words, she shook her head with a gasp, disbelieving, hoping to have that disbelief confirmed, only to watch that hope wither and die as she gazed into his implacable eyes. "I could have simply appeared, any night I wished, and taken you to bed with or without your consent," he said softly. Without seeming to move at all, suddenly he was once again by her side, mismatched eyes boring into hers, holding her there with the strength of his gaze. "Because prophecy dictated. But it did not dictate the means, only the ends, and so I was given that much choice in the matter. That much, and no more."

Sarah licked her lips, opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again. "So what happens now? What if I decide not to let prophecy dictate to me? I'm human, I don't have to play by your rules, not here, and there's no way in hell I'll ask you to drag me off to the Underworld."

"Not even to save your little brother?" Ah, that got her attention, and the fire back in her eyes. He raised a hand to forestall the bitter words hovering over her lips. "That's not a threat, Sarah, merely a question. You can try and dodge prophecy all you want, and I welcome you to do so, but it will have its way. If you…stop…this child from coming, prophecy will find a way to force us both to take measures to create another."

Sarah shook her head stubbornly. "I don't believe you." But she did, he could see it in her eyes, how frightened she was, how little she understood what he was telling her, what he was finally _allowed_ to tell her, and even that wasn't all of it. Prophecy was even more inflexible than Fate, in both their worlds, and for someone who'd lived with part of herself in both worlds at the same time, it was even more implacable. She didn't realize how rare she was to be able to manage such a balancing act; most mortals either repressed their memories of the realms of Fae completely, or went mad. At best, they became poets and tale-spinners, a sort of madness that allowed them to remain in their own world while still remembering, as if in a dream, the world they'd glimpsed and left behind.

No, prophecy held them both in thrall, only Sarah was still too stubborn to fully understand exactly what that meant. If only he could make her understand; but even if he were allowed to share with her all he knew, it wouldn't make any difference. Not yet. She was still determined to make this follow the rules of her own world, denying any power to his that she did not allow.

Well, she'd learn. And he still wasn't sure if he was glad of that…or sorry.

"Go away, Jareth."

He raised an eyebrow at that curt dismissal. "My dear, you were the one who called me here," he pointed out, keeping his tone reasonable.

She glared at him, tilting her head to do so, but it was a glare worthy of any of his most hated foes. Which she most definitely was not, but she wasn't ready to hear that from him. Not today. But soon, if he had his way, and, he suspected ruefully, prophecy would be sure to aid him in that much. "I know I called you. I wanted to share the news, but since you already knew it, there's no point in you staying. I need some time to figure out what I'm gonna do now." _And you have no say in it,_ her voice implied; he heard it as clearly as if she'd spoken the words aloud.

Greatly daring, he swooped down and captured her lips in a quick kiss. Before she could do more than gasp and reach up to push him away, he stepped back and smiled. "Take all the time you need. And when you're ready, call me to your side and I shall be there."

With those words, he turned and allowed himself to be pulled through the mirror, taking care that she see him do so. Her astonished gasp told him he'd accomplished his goal, but his smile of satisfaction dimmed to a frown as he reappeared in his throne room. "All the time you want" wouldn't translate to much. Prophecy would see to that.

And if she did, indeed, stop the child now growing within her womb? That thought sobered him. He suspected prophecy and her own nature would keep that option from being explored, but he felt no certainty in that suspicion. Sarah might very well visit a doctor in her human world and have that distasteful procedure known as an "abortion," but even then, as he'd warned her, it wouldn't be over. No, she was the chosen vessel for delivering him his heir, and her little brother, even offered in exchange for a child of their own conception, would never do. The fact that she'd actually become pregnant disabused him of that notion, now and forever; after all, it wasn't every day a Fae and mortal conceived a child together, no matter what the fairy tales said.

It wasn't every day a Fae conceived a child under any circumstances, truth be told. The price of near immortality was a decrease in the number of children they bore, until those numbers had dwindled to almost nothing in the past millennia. Which made this prophecy, the one he'd expected to elude by acquiring an heir through adoption, so to speak, so damned compelling. And not only to himself; if he knew them at all, he knew his fellow Fae were fluttering around behind his back, manipulating things to their own satisfaction, working feverishly to ensure that prophecy didn't fail. Children were that precious to them.

He snorted in a decidedly un-regal manner as he paced over to the window overlooking the Labyrinth. "As if prophecy has ever needed a hand in ensuring its own fulfillment," he muttered darkly.

No, they would meddle, his cousins and distant relatives and even those unrelated to him by blood, all to ensure the addition of one more to their numbers, one more brought in through "natural" means rather than by enchantment. And who was he to resent their efforts, after all; the idea of an heir had haunted him ever since ascending to his father's throne all those hundreds of mortal years ago.

Just as his father's death haunted him still. His mother had died in his birthing, a freak accident that apparently marked him out as one having a destiny. And prophecy had spoken, through an enchanted one, a changeling brought to their world to help raise him. He'd been very young, still a child in many ways, when Kara had opened her mouth in the middle of his father's court and spoken in a voice not her own: "_The one who bests you at the Labyrinth will be the one to deliver you an heir."_

Ironically enough, there had been no Labyrinth in his father's realm at that time. By the time Jareth reached his maturity, however, there was, one built by labor and magic into a thing of wonder. Upon its completion, his father had used it, tested it with mortals and other Fae and even his own self on one memorable occasion, populating it at his whim with creatures both fanciful and dangerous, helpful and horrid, with a keen disregard for anything mortals would recognize as "logic" to their placement. And Jareth, not fully understanding its impact on his future, had gleefully assisted in its creation and testing.

The Goblin King's purview had always been unwanted children, a thing unheard of in the Fae realms but all too common in the mortal world. For millennia every child snatched from a cradle and changed for a goblin was one that would have died if left in that cradle; from malnourishment, from neglect, from abuse, from one of a million mortal reasons. And every goblin left behind was one that could thrive in the human world until its time of service, as a reminder of what the parents had wished away, was over. Those goblins returned a little less stupid, a little more useful, than their siblings and cousins who never left the worlds of the Fae.

Those goblins became the ones who lived beyond the castle walls, who inhabited the Labyrinth and its many mysteries voluntarily.

Who helped, while seeming not to want to help, young ladies who braved the Labyrinth in order to rescue a child that was not so unwanted as it seemed.

Young ladies. He snorted again. Sarah. He meant Sarah. Others had braved the Labyrinth and failed, and been returned home, sometimes with their siblings and offspring, sometimes not. It all depended on whether their failure was due to their own lack of ability, or their own secret desire not to win after all. Whim and caprice were not solely the realm of the Fae; mortal hearts could and did change with neither rhyme nor reason just as often.

But not Sarah; she had remained steadfast, even winning the loyalty of several of his subjects, much to his surprise. It was then, when even Hoggle turned against his own king to aid the young mortal in her quest, that Jareth had realized this might be the one. Perhaps she would best him, but leave the child to him anyway. At least, that was his first assumption, that Toby would remain. He was a tolerable child, cheerfully accepting everything that happened to him. He'd stopped crying as soon as the goblins took him away, as if that was exactly what he'd wanted.

And now, who knew what the fates had in store for them all? Oh, in the end, it would be as prophecy foretold, but the end was far from near.

Not while Sarah's heart remained in such turmoil. Turmoil he'd brought on her, all in the name of following the rules. Rules she might never be able to comprehend, even if she were allowed to know them in all their complex vagaries…

He refused to allow himself to finish that thought. The prophecy said nothing about her sticking around once the heir was delivered. He pondered that for a moment, chin on fist on upraised knee, resting on the wide stone windowsill, seeing and not-seeing the view that stretched out before him. Would she even want to join him, to firmly anchor herself to just one world, when she'd so long straddled two, and with such seeming ease? Would he want her to? He held the image of Sarah in his mind, dressed regally, standing by his side with their child in her arms, and smiled.

"Yes," he said aloud, startling himself at the definite note in his voice. He did. Whether she could ever feel the same, well, he might find out. Or not. Depending on how long she was going to hate him, and he suspected her of being able to store up a great deal of hate against him.

Especially now.

* * *

_A/N: I'm back, all rested up and actually several chapters ahead via the very old-fashioned method of (gasp!) writing in a notebook! With a pen! So this should move along fairly quickly. Enjoy, and be sure to tell me what you think._

_2nd Note: To akumaxkami: Sarah is in her first year of college; I've decided she graduated at 17, as I did, and maybe started college in the summer semester instead of the fall to get ahead. This girl has (had?) ambitions!_


	5. Falling Down World

**Chapter Five – Falling Down World**

Sarah curled up in her bed and closed her eyes, willing this day away. Willing it to never have happened. This couldn't be happening, not to her; she'd managed so well, over the past three years, to stop resenting the life she was born to, to understand the difference between fantasy and reality, especially once fantasy showed itself to be all-too real. To accept what her time in the Labyrinth had showed her, what she'd learned while running her desperate race to save Toby, to bring him back home where she thought she'd finally realized they both belonged…

And now here she was, dizzy with trying to face the fact that perhaps the lesson she'd learned hadn't been meant to last, or hadn't been the proper lesson at all. "There's no place like home," she muttered, even tapping her heels together, but Oz had followed Dorothy into Kansas and was now insistently doing its best to drag her back.

"I'm not ready to be a mom," she announced to no one in particular, but someone answered, startling her into sitting up once again.

"No one's ever ready, milady, even do they deceive themselves into thinking so." Sir Didymus was perched on the foot of her bed, eyeing her sadly. "I see you have been given to understand your place in our world at last."

Sarah leaned forward. "What place is that, exactly? No one asked me if I wanted to get pregnant the first time I had sex!" She blushed at the boldness of her words, wondering if Sir Didymus would be insulted or if what she was saying would go right over his Don Quixote-like head.

Apparently not. "Milady, the words of the prophecy have been well known, laid down with every brick that formed the Labyrinth, breathed in the very air around us all. The Fae do wish for children of their own so dearly, that e'en King Jareth's greatest enemies would not dare to interfere in such a matter as this. You have been chosen by prophecy, and even more," he added gently, "you have been chosen by the Goblin King himself. He would have wished you to be the one even if prophecy had not already heralded your arrival."

"I still don't know what that means," she said helplessly. "Are you sure this prophecy isn't the only reason he came to me that night? Can anyone really know his mind? I'm just so confused." She buried her head in her hands.

"Questions only his Majesty can answer, I fear," Sir Didymus replied. "Tis true, his mind is readable only to him, but I have heard him speak of you with something approaching fondness many times o'er the years." Years, Sarah had been given to understand, that passed more swiftly in the Underground, just as her thirteen hours there had translated to mere minutes back here. So Jareth had been remarkably patient as he waited for her to be ready for him.

"Did he send you?" Sarah demanded, suddenly suspicious, but Didymus shook his head "no."

"I came on my own, when I sensed your pain, milady." He offered a courtly bow, sweeping his feathered cap from his head and returning it in one smooth motion, earning a wan smile in return. "Pray, allow me to do anything I can to help ease that pain."

"You've already done a lot," she promised, reaching over the give his sharply pointed nose a gentle tweak. At his enquiring look, she elaborated: "You reminded me that the Labyrinth wasn't all pain and danger, that I made some wonderful friends. But," she sighed, "none of you are gonna be able to help me now. This is a situation I have to work out on my own."

"If you insist, milady," was Sir Didymus' disappointed reply. "Then I shall tell the others to wait 'til you summon them, rather than appearing as I did, too hastily."

"No, I'm glad you came," Sarah said immediately. His drooping fox's tail immediately raised itself, even giving a slight wag, and his ears perked up as well as she reached over and hugged him. "Thank you. You've given me a lot to think about, and not all of it's bad."

He beamed at her in joyful response, patting her shoulder before hopping back off the bed and scampering to the mirror. "Til the next time you need me, milady, I bid you farewell!" Then he was gone in a shower of sparkles worthy of anything Jareth could produce.

Sarah's smile faded as the Goblin King once again crept into her thoughts. "I have a couple of months before I have to make a decision," she reminded herself, although the thought of terminating her pregnancy, however unplanned and unwanted and, hell, unnatural, brought on a bout of queasiness. And if what Didymus said was true, that Jareth wanted her to be the one prophesied, that he wanted her for herself? What then?

Pushing Jareth's feelings aside for later contemplation, she went to her desk, pulled out a notepad and a pen, then sat cross-legged at the foot of bed. On one side she wrote a big "plus" sign, on the other a "negative" sign. Then she stared at the paper for a long time before beginning to write.

When she finished, she gazed down at her handiwork. The "negative" side had almost filled the page; on the positive side, there was only one sentence: "Jareth called me 'love.'"

With a huff of indignation, she crumpled the paper up and threw it away. If she was only thinking of herself, there really were no pluses, not enough to let her go through the grief of telling Dad and Karen she was pregnant. And then, once she had the baby? Then what? Did Jareth expect her to just hand the baby over to be raised in the Underground, or would he expect her to stay? Would he even want her to? Didymus' words had only added to her confusion and worry, not soothed them, as he'd apparently hoped.

"He could have taken me by force. He could have raped me," she reminded herself, looking up at the ceiling. "He didn't even have to wait til I was old enough to understand how I feel about him." She made a face at that one. "How do I feel about him? Do I—do I love him? Does he love me?" Her mind was whirling with possibilities, creating scenario after scenario, possibility after possibility, until finally her head started to ache. She stood up, pacing fretfully for a few minutes, then decided she'd better try and get some sleep.

After tossing and turning for a few hours, she finally managed to fall asleep, only to dream of a baby with beautiful mismatched eyes and wisps of blonde hair, nestling trustfully in her arms while a beaming Jareth held them close and whispered endearments in her ear.

Every night that followed was the same, and by the end of the week she was no closer to a resolution to her feelings, or making any kind of life-altering decisions, than she had been that first day. And now Karen and Dad and Toby were back, exuberant and exhausted and showering her with gifts from the resort; a shiny rock with the resort name emblazoned on it in even shinier fake gems, a beautiful shell necklace from Karen, some other odds and ends from Dad.

And nothing but smiles and welcomes on her end as she forced herself not to give anything away, not to so much as hint that she had a troubled mind. She said thank you and oohed and aahed over the gifts, proudly showed off how clean she'd kept the house (housework and her waitressing job being the only ways she could get her mind off things), served up the dinner she'd slaved over, watched a little TV and listened to stories about the trip she'd missed, then made her reluctant way up to bed after everyone else had finally settled in to sleep.

She knew sleep was still a long way away, but she made the effort and was finally rewarded, after her usual session of tossing and turning, with a brief respite in the arms of Morpheus.

oOo

Sarah came awake with a start, partly because of the dream (the same damned dream, over and over, every night for a week and no signs of stopping) and partly because something was tickling her nose. As soon as her eyes popped open, a sheet of paper fell on her face as if someone had been dangling it over her, but there was no one there; she looked around wildly, but there was no sign of anyone, not so much as a whisper of glitter or an owl's shining eyes shining at the window. She got up and double-checked, just to be sure, but she was completely alone in her room, the door closed, the mirror showing nothing but her own reflection even when she snapped the light on. She peered into it, then remembered the sheet of paper.

There was a single sentence written on it in old-fashioned handwriting, and her fingers trembled as she read it through a second and then a third time.

Without a word she dashed out of her room and down the hall, opening Toby's door softly, hoping against hope he was there, sleeping, but one look told her his bed was empty. After carefully double-checking to make sure he wasn't under the rumpled covers or had fallen off the low toddler bed onto the floor or even curled up in the closet as he sometimes did, she closed the door and tiptoed to Karen and Dad's room. No Toby there, either, and both adults were sound asleep, so Toby wasn't missing because he was sick and sleeping with them…she checked downstairs in increasing desperation; the front and back doors were locked, he wasn't sneaking some late-night TV time or raiding the fridge or playing with his tricycle in the basement.

After a frantic half-hour of searching, softly calling her brother's name and straining to hear any kind of a response, she dashed up the stairs to her room. Closing the door tightly behind her, she strode to the mirror and peered into her own reflection. She called Jareth's name in a frantic whisper, pounding on the mirror as she did so. "Where is he? Jareth, where is he, what have you done with him? Jareth!"

* * *

_A/N: Time for the plot to thicken! _

_Note to Sophia: I called Jareth "demon lover" with demon meaning "otherwordly". :)_

_Note to marajade179: Thank you for reminding me that everyone was on vacation! I've fixed this section to reflect that!_


	6. Face of the Enemy

**Chapter 6 – Face of the Enemy**

Jareth's reflection appeared in the mirror behind her. He looked extremely annoyed. "What is it this time, Sarah? You can't simply expect me to just drop everything just because you…" His voice trailed off as he got a good look at her terrified face, at the tears running down her cheeks, and he turned her to face him; this was no time for reflection to speak to reflection. "Sarah? What is it? What's happened?"

She waved a piece of paper in his face. "Toby's gone! Where is he? You said it wasn't a threat!"

"And so it wasn't," he replied, grasping the wildly waving piece of paper—no, it was parchment, fine vellum, like nothing produced in the human world. And the handwriting…it was unsigned, but he recognized that handwriting. With a sense of deepening dread, he finally read the note he'd taken from Sarah: _"Return to the Underground or never see your brother again."_

"Sarah, you have my word on anything you hold sacred that I did not pen this note. I did not take your brother." His voice hardened. "But I know who did."

The words did nothing to calm her as she gaped up at him. "Who? And why? If you didn't tell them to, then _why_?"

He didn't answer her, not directly, instead moving her gently aside in order to glare into the mirror's depths, much as she had just done, only this time there were no reflections to block his view, nothing but a seething gray fog. "Garendel! Show yourself!"

An image appeared in the mirror. "In person, if you please!" Jareth snapped.

"No, I don't think so," the image drawled. Sarah moved forward a step, stopped only by Jareth's warning hand on her shoulder. The image looked her up and down, and she did the same, favoring the stranger with a hard stare. He looked like Jareth, was her first thought; Jareth with jet black hair and luminous blue eyes that sparkled like jewels. But the shape of those eyes, the cat-like slant was different from Jareth's more human-looking eyes, his chin that much more pointed, but he held himself with the same arrogance, had the same slender build from what she could see of his body. He even dressed the same, although in a lighter palette, creams and golds instead of blacks and silver.

"So this is the face of prophecy," he said. "Well done, Cousin; she's exquisite. I didn't get a very good look at her while she was sleeping…"

Jareth cut him off with another glare that would have withered any mere mortal it was directed toward, although it appeared to have little affect on the man who called him "Cousin."

"Taking unwanted children is the purview of the Goblin King," he said. The chill in his voice was glacial, Antarctic, but again seemed to have little effect on the reflected visage. "Give him back. Now."

"Please," Sarah interposed desperately.

Garendel's smile turned cruel. "I didn't take an unwanted child; on the contrary, he's very wanted. Here, in my realm. I've no prophecy to assure me an heir, either with a mortal or one of the Fae, and you and I both know, _Cousin_," this time the honorific was cutting, "how often I've tried. I'm just not as lucky as you, I suppose."

"Give him back," Sarah growled, once again fighting Jareth's hold, once again losing that fight. She spared a brief flash of anger for him, glaring up into his face before returning her attention to Garendel. "Give him back now! You have no right to him!"

"If you're worried, don't be. He seems to be adjusting quite well to his second visit to the Underground; as well, I imagine, as he did when you had custody of him, Jareth." He returned his attention to Sarah, the smile suddenly replaced with a look of false regret. "He does, however, seem to miss his sister." At that, his expression finally reflected something resembling a real emotion: implacable threat. "Join us. Or," he once again swung his eyes to meet those of the Goblin King, "I'll hide him away so cleverly it'll take you and all your Goblins a thousand years to find him."

The image vanished, replaced once again by Sarah and Jareth's reflections, Sarah's despairing, Jareth's a thundercloud of restrained fury. Sarah turned to look up at him uncertainly as he finally removed his hand from her shoulder. "He can't do that, can he? I thought there were rules." What she really meant, of course, was that she thought she understood the rules, when Jareth knew how little of the rules any mortal could comprehend.

"There are rules." Jareth sighed. "Unfortunately, my dear cousin has made an art form out of bending them to his own wishes. This time, although he treads perilously close to breaking one of them, to overstepping his bounds, he has been careful not to fully cross that line."

"So what can we do?" Half-plea, half-demand, and no way he could have ignored either. Damning himself quietly for his next words, Jareth spoke.

"The way I see it, we have only two choices: I can leave you here and return to try and force Garendel to return Toby, risking his very real threat to hide the lad away, or you can return with me, thus negating that threat since he coached it quite carefully as a condition he expected us to meet.

Sarah stepped back, blindly putting out a hand to steady herself against the dressing table's edge. "Return to the Underground…isn't that just playing into his hands?"

But it wasn't just Garendel thought brought that sudden note of added fear to Sarah's voice, and Jareth knew it. It was the fear that she was playing into his own hands as well. "It is," he replied, not speaking to her other fears. Fears that had a basis in reality, since it was what prophecy demanded of her, to be in the Underground when her child was born. "But it is also forcing that hand. What is your wish?"

The silence was deafening as Sarah's mind raced and stumbled and finally came up with the only answer possible. With a deep breath, she said the words she'd sworn never to speak again: "I wish you to take me to the Underground."

**oOo**

Garendel's throne room was even more elaborate than Jareth's, but Sarah barely noticed, focused as she was on finding her brother amidst all the gilt-edged clutter. There! He was sitting next to what was obviously Garendel's throne, sitting on a miniature version of it, as a matter of face, just as the toddler was dressed now in a miniature version of Garendel's gold-and-cream finery. Outraged, she rushed to her brother's side and reached to pick him up, but he shrank away from her, crying out for Garendel to protect him.

Sarah recoiled in shock at Toby's reaction, then glared furiously at Jareth's cousin. "What did you do to him?" She felt Jareth's hands on her arms, but ignored the warning squeeze and attempted to lunge at Garendel anyway.

"Calmly, Sarah," the Goblin King breathed in her ear, pulling her back against him in a motion more protective than preventive. "Cousin," he said in a louder voice. "What is the meaning of this? You promised to release the boy if Sarah came to the Underground; well, here she is. Honor your promise."

"Actually, I find myself quite taken with the lad." He picked Toby up and settled him against his hip, where Toby seemed quite comfortable as he leaned his head against Garendel's shoulder and gazed wide-eyed at his sister and Jareth as if they were both equally unknown to him. "As I mentioned before, I have no prophecy to guarantee me an heir." A gold-gloved hand smoothed Toby's blonde curls, and Sarah's hands curled into fists at the gesture, but Jareth continued to hold her against him in an iron grip. "I think this lad will do quite nicely."

"Give him back!" Sarah shouted, fighting against Jareth's hold with all her might. To no avail, of course; after a moment spent in furious struggle, she slumped in his hold and stared at Garendel in bewilderment. "Why are you _really_ doing this?"

"Why? To keep you in the Underground, of course. At least until you've delivered my dear cousin's heir. Children are precious here, didn't you know that? Precious and rare; when prophecy guarantees on of us a child, then the rest are obligated to do anything we can to help prophecy along. If I hadn't taken your brother, would you have come here otherwise, or would you have availed yourself of the services of a human _doctor_," he practically spat that word out, so heavy was his contempt, "to rid yourself of the child you now carry?"

"That's none of your business," Sarah retorted, eyeing Toby worriedly. "Why is he scared of me? What did you do to him? He acts like he doesn't even recognize me!"

Garendel didn't even blink; if anything, his smile became slyer, more menacing. "No, he doesn't, does he."

Sarah was about to tell him exactly what she thought of him, when Jareth interrupted. "I call for mediation!"

Sarah only had time to gape up at him before a trio of figures as if summoned by the Goblin King's words. Which, apparently, was exactly what had happened, as none of the formally-clad beings appeared to need an explanation for their presence.

There were two men and a woman, their golden skin practically glowing. All three had eyes the same brilliant blue as Garendel but long, golden tresses closer to Jareth's in coloring. Their eyes were oddly slanted and seemed overly large for their narrow faces. Each wore a somber expression at odds with their sparkling appearance, and all three were staring directly at Jareth as they appeared.

"The Goblin King has summoned us for Mediation," the man on the left intoned. "Does the Summer King agree to submit to our judgment?"

Somehow Sarah knew he'd damned well better or it wouldn't go well for him. Apparently Garendel (_the Summer King?)_ agreed, for he merely bowed his head and sat Toby back on his miniature throne after murmuring in the little boy's ear. Something comforting, she hoped, but it could just as well be some nasty spell to reinforce his magical fear of his sister.

"Describe the nature of your complaint," the woman commanded, her voice ringing like a bell through the vast stone chamber, echoing musically. Under other circumstances, Sarah knew she could listen to that voice for hours.

Jareth merely bowed, releasing Sarah but not without flashing her a warning look before he spoke, to which she gave a tiny nod. She wouldn't try anything, not right now, anyway. "My Lords and Lady," Jareth began, speaking formally, "my good Cousin did willfully abduct this child, Toby by name, from his very bed, undermining my authority in such matters. He then demanded the presence of Toby's sister, Sarah," here he nodded at Sarah, "in the Underground in exchange for her brother's return, but has placed the lad under an enchantment and now refuses to release him."

"What have you to say in answer to these very serious charges?" the second man demanded, his voice as beautiful as that of the woman but a deeper tone; where hers was tinkling bells, his was the deeper tones of an alarm bell.

Garendel bowed as Jareth had, although to Sarah's eye it held an undertone of mockery. "My Lords and Lady, I but acted as a humble servant of prophecy. This lovely young lady carries my cousin's unborn child." That certainly got their attention; Sarah flushed as all eyes turned to study her. Suddenly she wished she were wearing something other than the over-sized t-shirt and shorts she'd gone to bed in.

"So," the first man said thoughtfully, "she is the one." It was not a question, but Jareth nodded anyway. "And why, Summer King, did you feel it necessary to 'serve prophecy' in this manner?"

"Because my good cousin the Goblin King was foolish enough to allow her the choice not to join him here," Garendel replied, pointing dramatically at Jareth. "He was unwilling to force her to reside her until the babe is born, was even willing to allow her to decide if the child should even _be_ born." There was open scorn in his voice, but Sarah refused to allow him to rattle her. It was her baby, therefore her decision, no one else's. However, she had a sinking feeling in her stomach that any such decisions were now out of her hands.

All three Mediators reacted with indrawn breaths as their faces turned disapprovingly toward Jareth. "Is this true?" the woman demanded.

Jareth hesitated, then lowered his head in a bow of acknowledgment. "Yes, my Lady. I felt she would reach the right decision if I offered no pressure on her."

"You _felt_ it, but did not _know_ it," the woman pressed, frowning as Jareth once again nodded. She glanced at her companions, nodding at the first man, who immediately stepped forward.

"We rule in favor of Garendel, the Summer King. The lady Sarah and her brother shall remain in the Underground until her child is born."

"You can't make us stay here!" Sarah burst out. "I didn't break any of your stupid rules, he did!" She glared at Garendel, who returned her anger with a small smile.

"Did you come here of your own free will?"

Sarah nodded, very reluctantly, at the woman's question. "I did, yes, but Toby didn't! And I wouldn't have if he hadn't been kidnapped!"

Too late she realized she'd just confirmed that, prophecy or no prophecy, she'd had no intention of returning to the Underground. If she'd hoped for any sympathy from the three Mediators, that hope was destroyed. They looked at her coldly, not moving until Garendel stepped forward.

"I wish the boy Toby to be my declared heir," he put in smoothly. "In the human world he would be nothing. Here he will learn all I can teach him and everything that is mine will one day be his. He will be a prince. On this I give my solemn oath."

The three conferred in low voices as Sarah, Jareth, Toby and Garendel waited. Toby continued to sit quietly on his tiny throne, kicking his feet against the base and humming to himself the way he did when he was sleepy, while the two Kings stared at each other without blinking. Sarah took a step forward, only to feel Jareth's hand around her arm, pulling her back to his side. His voice was a harsh whisper in her ear: "Sarah, I beg you, do not act precipitously. You will only make things worse."

_How much worse can it get?_ she thought bleakly, but did as Jareth asked, although her heart was racing, her body flooded with adrenaline, screaming at her to rush to her brother's side, snatch him up and run away from this place as fast as she could.

Finally, after several agonizingly long minutes, the three stopped talking and turned once again to face the two Fae Kings and two mortals. "We have reached a decision," the woman announced.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

_A/N: Sorry for the delay, but I had to interrupt my life with an intensive search for a new car when mine died unexpectedly. I now am the proud owner of a 2009 Mitsubishi Outlander, wish me luck! And send me reviews of the story (not the car)! :)_


	7. Terms & Conditions

**Chapter 7 – Terms and Conditions**

Sarah found herself holding her breath as she waited for one of the three Mediators to speak. Not that she had any intention of agreeing to any result other than one that at least got Toby safely home before Karen and Dad woke, but still, she needed to know if her adrenaline was going to have anywhere to go or if she was just going to have to try and bring herself back down.

"Sarah, you came willingly to the Underground." That was the first man, the one with the least musical voice of the three. She nodded, as it seemed he expected a response from her. But when she opened her mouth to remind them that she'd been tricked into doing so, he raised a gloved hand to silence her. _What's with the glove fetish in the Underground, anyway?_ she had time to think before he spoke again. "Although Garendel acted hastily, his desire for an heir is well known, and the child has been to the Underground once before with no permanent harm."

"Jareth was going to turn him into a goblin!" Sarah shrilled.

"Which would not have harmed him," the first man pointed out. "And it was in the terms of the deal you struck with the Goblin King, was it not?"

As Sarah waffled over a response, the female member of the trio looked over at Toby and waved her hand. He disappeared as a silver glow surrounded him. Before Sarah could ask if he'd been sent home, he reappeared, although once again wearing his pajamas. The toddler blinked, looking around uncertainly, then smiling as he saw his sister. "Sarah!" he crowed, jumping down from the throne and running to her side, arms outstretched.

Sarah knelt down and hugged him tightly, barely noticing that Jareth had released his death-grip on her arms in order to allow her to do so. "How you doing, Rug Rat?" she whispered, looking anxiously into his eyes.

"Where we are, Sarah?" He looked around with a little more interest now that he was with someone he knew and loved. There was no trace of fear in either his voice or his eyes as he gazed around in interest, staring first at Jareth, then at the three Mediators and the Summer King. Garendel stood next to his throne, wearing a carefully blank expression. Toby studied him a moment longer, then looked back at his sister. "Is this Fairyland?" he asked in an awed whisper.

Sarah lifted accusing eyes to Garendel. "He's still under enchantment!"

The woman stiffened, then frowned. "All enchantments have been lifted. We wished to study the boy's natural reactions to his surroundings."

Suddenly Sarah wished Toby had screamed and cried in terror and begged to go home; suddenly his wide-eyed acceptance of the strange surroundings was a trap, and Garendel's smile of triumph confirmed that fear. "No! Send him home! I promise I'll stay and have the baby!"

"That decision has already been made," the other man said coldly. "Prophecy binds you here, no matter how you arrived. It is the child Toby's fate we decide, and it cannot be linked to yours. The Summer King has made a request that the boy become his heir, a request we cannot lightly dismiss."

"Then I offer Challenge." That was Jareth, apparently surprising them all. Including his cousin, to whom he now turned. "Will you accept?"

Garendel nodded, eyeing Jareth suspiciously. "If that is acceptable to the Mediators, then it is acceptable to me."

The woman nodded, not even needing to confer with her male colleagues. "It is. The mediation is concluded. Challenge has been offered and accepted. Name the terms."

Jareth locked eyes with Garendel, not moving a muscle as he spoke. "If I pass the Challenge you set me, the boy will be returned to his home with no memory of his time here."

"And if you fail?" the female Mediator asked.

"Wait, what do you mean, fail? You challenged _him_!" Sarah interjected, gazing up at Jareth in confusion. "Doesn't he have to do whatever challenge you set him?"

Jareth shook his head, still staring at Garendel with a half-smile of contempt on his lips. "No. Since he already has what he wants, it is I who must fight to get what I want. Garendel must set the task, and I must accept and win, else forfeit my claim. If I fail, then Toby becomes the Summer King's heir and remains in the Underground forever."

Sarah rose to her feet, angry protests storming from her lips, but was silenced by Toby's confused whimper; where strange surroundings hadn't fazed him, his sister's sudden distress did. She lifted him into her arms automatically, turning a beseeching gaze on the three Mediators, but as one they shook their heads; she would find no recourse there. Defeated, she subsided, but vowed privately that Garendel would never get her brother. Not if she had to sacrifice everything to save him.

"Are the terms acceptable?" the female Mediator asked Garendel.

He nodded. "They are. I set the Challenge thus: Jareth has thirteen hours to find this young lad." He nodded at Toby. "I will hide him in the Goblin King's own Labyrinth, but Jareth must find him without recourse to his powers. He must search for him as a mortal."

"I accept-" Jareth started to say, but Sarah interrupted him.

"I want to go with him!" She made sure to meet every eye in the room; the three Mediators, Garendel, Jareth, even Toby, who had no idea what was going on. She wanted them all to recognize her determination to see this through, that she was taking it as seriously as she'd taken anything in her life.

To no avail. Once again, the Mediators shook their heads in unison denial. "You cannot risk your unborn child," the female said. "Children are too precious to us."

"But it's OK for Toby to be in danger?" Sarah challenged, her voice shrill with anger and fear.

"Toby will never be in danger, just as he was never in physical danger whilst under the Goblin King's care during his last sojourn here," was the response. "But the terms of the Challenge could endanger you and the baby you carry. You will not be allowed to participate."

Sarah looked at Jareth with pleading eyes, but he, too shook his head. "I'm sorry, Sarah, but I agree with the Mediators," he said softly. "You carry precious cargo and must remain behind. I promise, I will not fail you."

"You'd better not," Sarah growled, then relented somewhat at the flash of sorrow she saw cross his face before he schooled his features to an expressionless mask. "I know you can do it; if I did it, then even without your powers you have a really good chance."

The female Mediator, meanwhile, had turned her attention to Garendel. "You will wish to alter the configuration of the maze somewhat?"

He nodded, his eyes alight with a demonic glee that gave Sarah the willies. "Of course. I will need but an hour…and my dear cousin's permission, of course." He turned to Jareth expectantly.

The Goblin King gave a curt nod. "I will lower the defenses on the Labyrinth itself for one hour so you may make your changes and bring Toby to your chosen hiding place. After that, it is once again forbidden to you."

"Done." With a flash of glitter, silver and gold, both men disappeared, leaving Sarah and Toby alone with the Mediators.

Sarah kissed Toby on the top of his head as he laughed and clapped at the two kings' dramatic exits. "Do you promise he'll be safe?" she asked the Mediators, determined to have as many guarantees as she could get.

The second man nodded. "No harm shall come to him, whether the Goblin King wins this Challenge or loses," he said. "You have our solemn vow on that. We will remain with you here until the hour of preparation is concluded; when the Summer King returns to fetch your brother, the thirteen decreed hours shall begin and we shall depart until their conclusion."

"Your brother shall be placed into an enchanted sleep," the woman added with some compassion in her voice and eyes that had until now been absent. "He will neither be harmed nor frightened whilst he awaits rescue."

"Thank you," Sarah whispered. She looked around the throne room; seeing some couches that looked moderately comfortable along one wall, she headed over there to sit with Toby. An hour to wait, then thirteen more after that. _It's a good thing I'm not a nail biter,_ she thought ruefully. However, she also wasn't much on waiting, either, and the time was bound to pass more than slowly for her.

For now, she concentrated on Toby. "Did you understand what we were talking about?" she asked her brother gently.

"What's a lab'rinth?" he asked. "Why you mad, Sarah?"

"A labyrinth is a kind of puzzle for people to walk through and find the exit, kind of like a corn maze, remember?" Sarah explained, putting it as simply as she could and encouraged by her brother's eager nod. "But you won't have to worry about it. The man with the yellow hair, Jareth?" Toby nodded. "He has to go through the Labyrinth and find you, then bring you back to me. But you'll be safe and sleeping, and when you wake up, we'll be together again. Then you get to go home and be with Mommy and Daddy like always!" She beamed at him, doing her best to make it sound like an adventure and trying desperately to downplay her own fears.

"OK," he said, sounding doubtful. "But I not tired, Sarah!"

"I know, Rug Rat, it's been way too exciting, hasn't it? Too exciting to sleep here in Fairyland?" He nodded again, and Sarah stroked his head. "Don't worry about it; when it's time to go to sleep, you won't have any problems, I promise."

"C'n I have ice cream when we go home?" She actually managed a laugh at that question; whenever she took Toby for an "adventure" in the park, it always ended with ice cream. At least he was associating this was something as harmless as pretending squirrels were dragons that had to be chased back into their tree-lairs.

"We'll see," she answered, hugging her little brother until he squirmed in her hold and slipped back to the heavily embroidered sofa they were sitting on. The Mediators were speaking quietly amongst themselves in low voices, too far for Sarah to overhear. She wondered if she could find a way to casually move closer in order to eavesdrop, but decided against it. They'd probably shut up as soon as she got within hearing range.

She felt a flash of resentment toward them for not allowing Toby to go home immediately, but was honest enough with herself to realize that the prophecy was the real problem. If not for that, none of them would be in this predicament, and she resented Jareth even more for not telling her about it immediately the night she wished for his presence in her bedroom.

"Stupid Underground rules," she muttered, hoping the flush she felt come over her at the thought of That Night would quickly vanish. She forced herself to return her attention to Toby, who was getting fidgety.

Finding ways to keep him occupied took up the remainder of the first hour's waiting time. When Garendel and Jareth returned in twin flashes of light, she was startled into losing her place in the story she was telling her brother. She jumped to her feet, reaching for Toby's hand. He clambered down as well, gripping her fingers as she waited to hear what would happen next.

"It is time," the female Mediator intoned. She gestured for Toby and Sarah to approach.

Fighting the urge to run in the opposite direction, Sarah did as she was bade, and Toby marched along beside her trustingly. He smiled up at the lady as they reached her side, and she smiled back down at him before dropping into a graceful stoop in order to look closely into his eyes. "You're pretty," he announced, and her smile deepened.

"Thank you, My Lord Toby," she replied, offering her hand. He took it willingly, but not without a glance at Sarah to make sure it was all right.

She nodded, blinking away the sudden tears that sprang to her eyes. "You be good, Toby, and after you wake up, you'll be back home."

"Wif ice cream," he reminded her as he allowed the female Mediator to pick him up. She put her hands to his eyes, gently closing the lids and murmuring softly into his ear. He went limp with a suddenness that frightened Sarah, but Garendel was there to take him in his arms.

"You'd better keep your promises," Sarah warned, hands clenching and unclenching in frustration, a refrain _of it isn't fair, it isn't fair_ chanting its way through her head.

"He will be unharmed," Garendel said, "no matter what the outcome." He vanished in another shower of sparkles, taking Toby with him.

Sarah gave an involuntary cry and stumbled forward a step. She would have fallen if Jareth hadn't appeared at her side and held her up. "He will be safe, Sarah, and I will return him to you at the appointed hour. You have my word."

Within minutes Garendel reappeared, without Toby. "All is ready for you, Cousin," he said with a mocking bow to Jareth. "As soon as you enter the Labyrinth, the time will commence." A large clock numbered in gothic letters, one to thirteen, appeared in mid-air behind the larger throne. "Whenever you're ready."

Jareth's hands tightened on Sarah's arms. "With your leave, my lady," he murmured in her ear.

She shivered at the intimate note in his voice, then sternly reminded herself that this was all his fault and stiffened her spine. "Hurry up and get it over with," she spat, jerking herself free of his hold and marching over to the couch she and Toby had been sharing. She plopped down and folded her arms, glaring at him until he bowed, once to her, once to the Mediators, and once, with a great deal of exaggerated formality, to his cousin. "I would ask you to wish me luck, Garendel, but I know you wish no such thing."

"I'll see you in thirteen hours. After you fail," Garendel smirked, and Jareth disappeared with a scowl on his face.

Shortly after that, the Mediators vanished as well, without a word of farewell, leaving Sarah alone with the Summer King.


	8. In Enemy Hands

**Chapter 8 – In Enemy Hands**

"Can I get you something to eat? A cup of tea, perhaps?"

Sarah ignored Garendel's questions, just as she'd been ignoring him for the past two hours. Ever since they'd been left alone he'd been doing his best to get her to talk to him, although she couldn't for the life of her figure out why. All she wanted to do was be left alone to wait out the thirteen allotted hours in peace. Eleven hours now.

Of course, it was the Summer King's throne room she was stuck in, and an old saying about catching more flies with honey than vinegar drifted through her mind, but that sounded too much like the voice of reason, and the voice of reason was not one she was in the mood to listen to at the moment.

She glanced back at the ornate clock still hovering in mid-air. Another slow minute had passed and that was all. She went back to pacing, shivering a bit as she finally noticed that, for the throne room of someone called the Summer King, it was mighty cold. "I guess I could use some slippers and a coat if you have one," she said reluctantly, hating to ask him for anything.

Garendel offered a gracious bow. "Of course, my lady." He clapped his hands and the massive wooden doors opened to admit a beautiful blonde woman, although her beauty was far closer to what Sarah was used to seeing than the unearthly luminescence of the three Mediators. She wore an elegant gown of deepest green flecked with gold and cream that looked stunning on her. Not to mention warm… "Elena, bring the Lady Sarah to the chamber I've prepared for her. She needs rest, sustenance, and warmth."

"Hey! I just asked for a pair of slippers and a jacket!" Sarah protested. "I'm not leaving until Jareth and Toby get back here."

"Tut, child, there's no reason for you to stay in this room the entire time. It's not like I can hide you away, not with the Mediators involved." He scowled as he said the word, but smoothed out the lines on his forehead in a flash and favored her with another mocking smile. "Besides, were I to do you harm the Goblin King's minions would tear me to pieces in a heartbeat. So please, allow Elena to escort you to someplace more comfortable. When the time comes, you will be brought back here to witness the final outcome of the Challenge."

Part of Sarah felt like arguing just because she hated to owe anything to this kidnapper, but part of her wanted to save her strength in case things…well, in case. "I want to be back before the end of the last hour and not a minute longer," she insisted.

Garendel bowed again. "Of course." He threw Elena a sharp glance. "See that the Lady Sarah has all she requires."

"Of course, my lord," the blonde beauty murmured, then waited patiently by the door until Sarah finally joined her.

Standing next to the other woman Sarah felt even dowdier than she had by the Mediators; at least they were so obviously not human that no one in their right mind would bother to make a comparison. This woman, however, seemed so completely human that Sarah felt compelled to ask her where she was from as they walked down a chilly hall lit by globes that flickered like fire but were cold to the touch.

"Why, from the Summer Kingdom, of course," she replied in a voice no more bell-like than Sarah's own. "I was brought to the castle as a child to serve the King, and have done so faithfully my entire life."

"I'll just bet you have," Sarah muttered under her breath; she hadn't forgotten the way Garendel practically boasted how often he'd "tried" to get an heir. He'd mentioned both mortal and Fae as recipients of his attention, and suddenly found herself absurdly grateful that she was already pregnant. Of course, it was unfair of her to be so uncharitable to someone she just met, and someone obviously under Garendel's control; even if he had tried to get Elena pregnant, it wasn't her fault. Somehow Sarah doubted Garendel would have waited for Sarah to be ready, the way Jareth had; he seemed more the "she's-the-one-time-to-force-myself-on-her" type.

Neither she nor Elena spoke another word until they reached an ornately carved wooden door two or three corridors away from Garendel's throne room, but thankfully on the same level; Sarah wanted to be quite sure she could find her way back on her own if she had to.

The chamber was gorgeous. Of course, Sarah thought sourly, it would be. All white wainscoting and delicate, gilt-edged Louis the something-ith style furniture, including an enormous mirror on the wall opposite the window. Gilt framed, of course. And a huge wooden bed, so tall it had steps leading up to it, draped in the ubiquitous gold and cream, with matching comforter and pillow coverings…and on the far wall opposite its foot, a fireplace, complete with roaring flames.

"That's what I'm talking about!" Sarah exclaimed as she made a beeline for that particular feature. She sank into the overstuffed chair in front of it and held her toes out to be gloriously toasted.

She heard Elena moving around behind her but ignored her for the moment, too busy enjoying the warmth of the roaring fire. There was even a soft green blanket on the chair, the only thing of its color in the room besides the other woman's dress. Sarah pulled its thick folds over herself and snuggled down. Garendel was right, damn him; it would be far more comfortable waiting for Toby and Jareth in this lovely room.

She started at a noise by her side, turning to see Elena placing a gold-plated tray on a small table near Sarah's elbow. It was filled with tiny plates of sugary sweets as well as an elaborate tea pot and cup, sugar bowl and creamer. She smiled her thanks at Elena, then asked if she'd care to join her; they could always dump out the sugar to make a second cup.

Elena seemed startled by the offer; with a nervous glance at the door, she shook her head no. "I must return to my other duties, my lady," she demurred. "There are gowns and slippers for you in the wardrobe." She indicated the heavy piece of furniture to one side of the bed. Sarah noted its presence, but privately decided she'd stick with her own clothes now that she had a blanket to wrap herself in.

"Well, if you're sure?" Sarah tried again. "I wouldn't mind some company while I wait." _And I wouldn't mind being able to pick your brains about the Summer King,_ she thought, but once again Elena shook her head no. After pouring out a cup of tea for Sarah, she curtsied and made her way to the heavy wooden doors leading back to the corridor. With another small bow she closed them tightly behind her.

Sarah waited a few seconds before forcing herself up from the chair in order to make sure Elena hadn't locked it. It opened on the first try, and she stuck her head out. The other woman had already vanished, as if by magic. Heck, in this place, that was just as likely an explanation as the mundane one, that Elena had merely turned a corner already on her way to wherever it was she was going.

Sarah felt a yawn struggle its way free of her throat, and stretched a little. The bed was nothing she ever intended to try out, but the overstuffed chair had been perfect for curling up in. If she managed to get even a little sleep, she'd feel more alert. And anything that made time pass more quickly would be welcome.

Even though she was uneasy in the Summer King's castle, she still managed to nod off for a few hours before startling herself awake from a nightmare in which Jareth and Toby made it back only one minute too late and Garendel held her brother up over his head like a trophy, laughing the entire time.

Knowing it would be impossible for her to go back to sleep, she stood up, holding the blanket around her tightly. The floor was cold but there were several beautiful carpets scattered around the room, and she sprang from one to the next, determined to open the window and look outside.

Clambering up onto the (gold and cream, covered in embroidery) window seat, she tugged open the latch and leaned out to see what she could of Garendel's realm. She wasn't at all surprised to find a wintry landscape under the pale moonlight, not with the chill in the castle itself. "So why is it called the Summer Kingdom, then?" she asked aloud.

"We're not in the Summer Kingdom." She jumped and gave a startled yell at the sound of that voice behind her; she hadn't heard the door open…of course. It was Garendel, standing directly behind her. "We're in the Winterlands."

The Winterlands. No wonder it was so damn cold. But that didn't explain everything. "Why?" she asked, finding herself actually curious. Cautious, but still curious. At one point in her life she'd believed the Goblin Kingdom and Labyrinth were all there were to the Underground, and once she'd been disabused of that notion by Hoggle, she'd never bothered to find out about the rest. After all, she never intended to visit any of them!

"To bring us to neutral territory, of course. I merely had a simulacrum of my real castle created here, in the barrens of the Winterlands, for the duration of the Challenge. Surely you didn't think I ruled a kingdom with only a single maiden in it to serve me?" There it was, a definite double entendre in the way he asked that last question. Sarah did her best to ignore it

Without so much as a by-your-leave Garendel sat himself next to her on the window seat, leaning one arm casually along the wide stone sill of the half-opened window. Sarah uneasily edged away, keeping her feet beneath her in case… _In case what?_ she asked herself scornfully. _In case he jumps you? You're already pregnant, remember?_ Funny, she never expected that thought to be comforting. Ever.

He noticed the movement, however, and showed it by flashing her a knowing smile. "I also came here as a show of good faith. Were we to remain in my own kingdom, there would be many ways for me to interfere in Jareth's quest, despite his forbidding me access to the Labyrinth. Just as he interfered in your own quest," he reminded her with a raised eyebrow. As if she'd ever forgotten anything about that maddening, mystical quest…

"Yeah, well, we didn't exactly spell out a non-interference clause when I ran the Labyrinth," she replied. "Besides, we didn't have Mediators to make sure Jareth left me alone to work things out on my own even if we did." Drat, she was forced to defend the Goblin King if only because she hated this guy's guts so much. "Why did you let Jareth offer a challenge, anyway?" she asked, deciding to go on the attack. "Were you afraid the Mediators wouldn't rule the way you wanted them to?"

"On the contrary; I'm confident they would have," Garendel retorted, leaning back against the wall, legs crossed elegantly at the ankles. "But then, I would never have had this sort of opportunity handed to me again, so I seized it whilst I could."

"Wait, what?" Sarah frowned in confusion. "You mean you _wanted_ Jareth to challenge you?"

Garendel nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. "Of course. How else would I ever have been given leave to interfere with his precious Labyrinth?" His smile deepened into a satisfied smirk. "He'll find things are not only changed about, but also that I've left a few surprises for him."

Sarah wet lips suddenly gone dry with fear. "And Toby?" she asked in a whisper.

"No harm will come to your brother," Garendel replied. "I still want the lad for my heir; that was never a lie, you know. Especially since I've seen how easily he accepts being here. And if Toby's nephew should be in need of a regent to rule the Goblin realms in his father's absence, who better than his own adoptive father to step in?"

It took Sarah a second to untangle Garendel's meaning; when she did, she sat up straight and gasped in outrage, ignoring the blanket's tumble to the floor at her movement. "You mean this is all some kind of plot to take over Jareth's kingdom?"

Garendel swung his hands together in a slow, sardonic clap. "Well done! What's the human phrase? Give the girl a prize!"

"I'll tell the Mediators," Sarah threatened, half-rising from her crouch at the other end of the window seat, but Garendel reached out, fast as a snake, and jerked her back down.

"Tell them," he said, his voice flat and deadly. "It will mean nothing to them. I was given time to reconfigure the Labyrinth, and I did so. I said nothing about not making it too deadly for the Goblin King to survive without using his magic. If he does so, he forfeits Toby and I win my stated goal; if he doesn't," his voice turned gloating, "then he dies. The only promise made was that Toby would be unharmed, whether Jareth completed the Challenge on time or not."

Sarah sat numbly for a long minute, trying to wrap her mind around what she'd just been told. "You've been plotting this all along, haven't you," she finally said through stiff lips. "Ever since, what? Since you found out that I was the one from the stupid prophecy?"

"I've been plotting this, as you put it, ever since I was old enough to see the possibilities in that prophecy, long before you ever came into the picture," Garendel corrected. "And don't think Jareth hasn't had a few plans and schemes of his own in mind," he added with a sneer. "If you think I'm the only Fae to act in such a manner, you are sadly mistaken. It's just as well you don't intend to remain here to take on your duties as Jareth's queen, should he survive the Challenge; if you're truly that naïve, you wouldn't survive a single day in the Primary Fae Court."

Sarah had no idea what that might be, but was too angry to care, either. "Whether I decide to stay or not," she spat, "I'll make sure Jareth knows exactly what you planned for him! Even if you're all scheming against each other like you say, trying to kill someone to steal their kingdom has be against some kind of law!" Oh, what was the word from that European history class… "That's regicide!"

Garendel's mocking laughter rang out. "Whether it is or not is immaterial. In another nine hours, the Challenge shall be over, my dear cousin shall be dead, and I shall persuade the Primary Fae Court to give you and your unborn child into my custody, so that you will be able to stay with your dear brother during this time of grief." If she'd thought him mocking before, his voice was downright evil now. "After all, it's not as if you have any other family here in the Underground, my dear; and no, your little Goblin friends don't count. In fact, if all goes as planned, they'll be as dead as Jareth when this is all over."

Sarah launched herself at him with a scream, fingers clawed, aiming for his eyes, kicking and flailing as she managed to knock them both off the window seat and onto the cold stone floor. She landed on top of Garendel, who'd finally lost his air of mockery and seemed startled, either at the fact that she'd dared attack him, or that she'd actually managed to do some damage as she raked her fingers across his face, drawing three bloody lines down one cheek. She also managed to land her knee squarely in his stomach, a little more north than she'd been aiming, but he let out a satisfying howl of pain before managing to roll her off him and pin her to the floor.

"Little mortal, you don't know who you're dealing with," he snarled, leaning over her, pinning her legs down with his own, gloved hands holding tightly to her wrists as he forced her hands up on either side of her head. He ignored the blood dripping down his face and onto her t-shirt. "You are going to regret that. Very, very much."

He yanked her to her feet and shoved her over to the bed. "No one attacks the Summer King and gets away with it; if you want proof, I'll be happy to show you the dungeons in my true castle. You thought the pathetic oubliette in the Labyrinth was bad? It was nothing!" he roared.

Sarah had been too angry to allow any other emotion through, but felt a thrill of fear as she realized how easily he was handling her, how futile her efforts to free herself were proving to be. Garendel pulled her wrists around until her arms were twisted behind her back, and she cried out in pain as he shoved her face first onto the bed's thick, gold comforter. She felt his hot breath on her neck as he leaned over her, leaving no distance between them at all as he spoke, more blood dripping onto her hair and face. "Shall I give you a demonstration of exactly how Jareth could have got his heir upon your unwilling body? Physical force is rarely needed between human and Fae; our glamour usually takes care of any…difficulties. But in your case, I am happy to make an exception!"

Rape. He was threatening rape; dear God, she'd never expected this. "You might hurt the baby," she gasped out, her only defense at this moment.

"I never promised not to," came Garendel's venomous response, and Sarah felt him rip her clothing from her body one handed even as he forced her legs apart with his own. The sudden warmth of skin-to-skin contact that told her the Summer King's clothing had vanished as well. It was especially obvious in a certain spot pressed very tightly against her naked buttocks.

The pressure eased, but only for a moment. Sarah cried out as she felt a searing pain between her legs. Threat had become reality; it appeared Sir Didymus had been wrong about Jareth's worst enemies not interfering in such matters.

Her last coherent thought for a long time was that this might have been part of Garendel's plan all along.


	9. A World of Hurt

**Chapter 9 – A World of Hurt**

The world was pain. The world was humiliation, and fear. Sarah heard someone whimpering and realized with a flash of revulsion that it was herself. She felt hands on her, hauling her feet up to join the rest of her bruised and battered self on some soft surface. The bed? She felt nausea rise and managed only by the grace of God not to be sick all over that expensive gold comforter.

"Check her out." That curt voice was familiar; who was it? Garendel, she remembered with a flash of terror and hatred. Who was he talking to?

"Yes, Your Highness." That voice, softer, feminine, was familiar as well. Elena. The servant girl. Gentle hands touching her shoulder, but she flinched away as if she'd been punched. Elena made soft, soothing noises, and her hands hovered briefly over Sarah's lower body. There was a warm glow of light that Sarah caught out of the corner of her eyes before shutting them tightly together. Too much she didn't want to see. "The baby lives, Highness," she reported, then bent down to speak directly to Sarah: "Your baby is safe, my lady."

How Elena knew Sarah had no idea, but she felt…nothing. She curled her body around herself and wished everyone away, to just leave her and her pain and her safe baby alone. Maybe then she could process what had happened to her; maybe then it would all just go away and never have happened in the first place.

"Fine." Garendel again; she flinched at the sound of his voice, then flinched again as Elena placed a soothing hand on her shoulder. "Get some clothes on her, clean her up, then leave. I don't want you anywhere around when the Mediators return, or it will mean your life."

"Yes, Your Majesty." There was no trace of emotion in the blonde woman's voice, but her hands shook, very slightly. But enough for Sarah to feel it. She, too feared the Summer King; very likely she'd feared him all her young life.

A stillness came over the room, and she felt Elena breathe a silent sigh of relief. "He's gone now. Will you let me help you?"

Sarah cracked open one eye, the better to glare at the other woman. "I'll be fine," she ground out. "Just get me some clothes and get out. I can clean myself up." She'd seen an old-fashioned china wash stand on a low table opposite the bed, no doubt filled with icy water, but right now she just wanted to be left alone.

She watched Elena bow her head and move toward the heavy wooden wardrobe. Opening the doors wide she hesitated a moment, her hand hovering over first one gown then another, rejecting each of them until finally she pulled out a simple, deep blue dress. "This is the warmest," she said as she busied herself pulling out underclothes and stockings, along with a pair of low boots that laced up one side and matched the dress perfectly.

Sarah could care less. She heaved herself across the endless width of the bed in the direction of the wash stand. Ignoring Elena as she laid the clothing carefully across the elaborately carved wooden chest at the foot of the bed, Sarah lowered herself carefully onto the first of the three padded steps that lead to the floor. She made her careful way downward, feeling a vague sense of accomplishment when her foot landed on the deep pile of the carpet strip.

Elena was there before her. "Please," she begged. "I can help with the pain." She held up her hands as if to show them Sarah. "It's how I knew about your baby," she added, watching Sarah's face hopefully.

"You're what, some kind of healer?" Sarah hated the way her voice sounded, dull, defeated, but right now there was nothing that could make her feel better, nothing at all. Even if Elena could cure the pain, as she was eagerly nodding "yes" to show she could, it wouldn't do anything for Sarah's state of mind, the shock she was still feeling, the tremors and shivers that overcame her body every few seconds. So she nodded "yes" as well, figuring it wouldn't make much of a difference.

The only light in this particular hell was the fact that her baby was all right. She clung to that thought as Elena laid gentle hands on her abdomen, closing her eyes and appearing to concentrate very hard on something unseen. The soft glow appeared again, centered around those slender hands, giving them a blue aura.

After only a few seconds Sarah felt the pain between her legs subside to a dull ache, then disappear completely. The only signs of violence remaining were the streaks of blood on her thighs. She shuddered at the release from pain, managing nod of thanks. She turned her back on the other woman and started cleaning herself up, slowly at first, then in a kind of frenzy to remove every last trace of Garendel from her body, including the blood he'd dripped on her hair and face.

She scrubbed until she was raw, ignoring Elena's entreaties to be more careful, actually slapping the blonde woman's hands away when she attempted to heal the scrapes Sarah had inflicted on her own body. "No!" she said sharply. "I don't want any more help! Just go! I'm sure the Summer King is just waiting for you to fix his face for him."

"The Master needs no help from me to heal himself," Elena replied. "But he told me…"

"He told you to get me some clothes and clean me up, that's all," Sarah interrupted. "He didn't say anything about healing me, did he?" Elena shook her head mutely. "All right, then, you're done. Now get out and leave me the hell alone!"

Elena nodded, turning to go, hesitating only a moment before allowing the massive wooden doors to shut behind her as Sarah returned to scrubbing Garendel's filthy presence from her body. When there was nothing left to clean, when even her hair was dripping with the water from the basin, water that magically remained clear and slightly warm even after she rinsed out the bloody rag she was using as a wash cloth, she forced herself to stop, hands shaking as she regarded her haggard reflection.

Without a word she turned and hurled the cloth across the room; when that did nothing to relieve her feelings, she dashed the basin to the floor and watched it smash to pieces. Then she collapsed to her knees among the wreckage, not noticing or caring if she cut herself on the ceramic shards. Huddled by the side of the bed, sobs wracking her body, she ignored the cold and wet until the storm of tears finally ended.

Afterwards she got painfully to her feet and picked up the dress Elena had laid out for her. She dragged it on over her head, not bothering with any of the complicated-looking under things except a pair of soft cotton knickers that tied at the waist. The stockings she ignored as well, just pulling on the matching boots and lacing them up tightly.

Then she moved, very stiffly, over to the chair near the fire where she'd found a few hours relief from this waking nightmare, at least until the more conventional nightmare that had interrupted that peace. She perched on the edge of her seat, staring dully into the fire, not noting the passage of time until a sound behind her alerted her that someone was in the room.

"You forced me to that, you know." Garendel. Of course.

Sarah let out a humorless bark of laughter, still staring at the flames dancing before her. "Great. Even in the Underground it's 'blame the victim'. I guess you weren't all that worried about Jareth's goblins tearing you to pieces after all."

"You are unharmed." At that, Sarah turned to stare incredulously at him. "You are," Gareth insisted, his face an unreadable mask; did he actually believe what he was saying? Apparently he did. "The child you carry is unharmed, I presume Elena healed you of any damage that might have been inflicted?" When Sarah made no answer he shrugged and continued: "You are warmly clothed, you were given food and warm drink-"

"You raped me," Sarah snarled back. "You call that unharmed, you bastard?"

"You attacked me," Garendel replied, a hint of a snarl in his own voice now. "No one attacks me, certainly no mortal and certainly not in my own castle."

"Your own fake castle," Sarah corrected him bitterly. "And I attacked you because you stole my brother, you manipulated Jareth into a Challenge you rigged to make sure he would lose, and then you threatened my only friends in this Godforsaken place! What'd you expect me to do, just sit there and take it?" She hated the edge of hysteria in her voice, but at least the dull listlessness was burned away in her rage.

Garendel bared his teeth at her in a mockery of a smile. "No, I expected you to lie there and take it. Oh yes, that's exactly what you did. A pity Jareth won't be around to avenge you, isn't it?"

"A pity Jareth won't be around to avenge what, exactly?"

Sarah had turned her eyes back to the fire; at the sound of that voice, that blessedly familiar voice, she jumped to her feet and whirled around. Garendel, his face white with shock, was staring over his shoulder, mouth open, eyes bulging at the sight of Jareth standing in the middle of the room, Toby resting comfortably in his arms, still asleep.

"Toby!" Sarah flew across the room, ignoring Garendel as she reached out for her brother. Jareth placed him gently in her arms, but his eyes never left those of his cousin.

"But—but—how?" Garendel stammered. "It's only been…" He spluttered to a stop, unable to find the words to continue.

"Yes, it has only been six hours," Jareth drawled, stepping closer to his cousin, reaching up to pluck an imaginary piece of lint off the other man's shoulder. "It helps when every Goblin in the realm is aiding in your search."

"You forfeit!" Garendel screamed, pointing a shaking finger at Jareth. "You cheated! You were to search for the boy as a mortal!"

"And so I did," Jareth replied, voice and face perfectly composed. "I used none of my magic; I even bound it so that I couldn't use it even if I tried. That does not mean my loyal Goblins suddenly became enemies for me to fight my way through, no matter what you tried to bribe or threaten them with." Without changing tone his voice became wintry, brittle. "Nor does it mean they wouldn't point out the painfully obvious traps you set for me. It was I who took Toby from his hiding place; if someone else found him there first and alerted me, well, that was never forbidden. I win."

Sarah listened, fascinated, perched on one of the room's other chairs. Toby dozed next to her, still in the throes of the enchanted sleep laid on him by the female Mediator. And where were they, Sarah wondered; weren't the Mediators supposed to show up when the Challenge was over? No, wait, they weren't due back till the thirteen hours were up; apparently even they never expected Jareth to do as well as he had. She felt a real smile tugging at her lips for the first time since waking up to find that hideous note.

The smile fled as Toby mumbled in his sleep. She brushed his hair from his face, not wanting to let go of him even for an instant, in case Garendel tried anything. "You have to send Toby home now," she said, doing her best to keep her voice from trembling, refusing to look at the Summer King even now, with Jareth in the room and Toby safe by her side.

"He cannot be returned until the Mediators arrive," Jareth reminded her. "Only Mediator Oshella can remove the enchantment laid on him." He eyed her gown with an approving smile. "That color suits your dark beauty, my dear," he said, then frowned as she stiffened and turned her head away.

Garendel hadn't moved, not an inch, but Jareth's suspicious gaze settled on him nonetheless. "What happened while we were away?" he asked, eyes glittering dangerously.

_/Will you share your humiliation with him?/_ Sarah's eyes widened at the sound of that mocking, hated voice insinuating itself into her very thoughts. _/Will you let your lover know you allowed another man betwixt your legs?/_

"Get out of my head!" Sarah screamed, jumping to her feet, forgetting even Toby in the surge of rage. She took a few, trembling steps forward, fists clenched so hard she could feel her fingernails digging into her palms. "You bastard! Stay out of my head!"

Jareth walked silently toward Sarah, making sure she saw him before he placed a hand on her arm. She jerked it away, clutching the offended spot with her other hand, but her eyes never left those of the Summer King. "What exactly has occurred on in my absence?" Jareth asked softly as he, too, gazed at his cousin.

"Just get me out of here," Sarah said, her voice breaking on the last word. "Do we have to wait with _him_ for the Mediators? Can't you just call them again so we can get the hell out of here?" She dropped her face into her hands; was she _crying_? His brave Sarah, who was more likely to scream defiance than to sob in terror?

"I asked you a question, Cousin," Jareth said, still in that same soft, dangerous voice. "In fact, I asked it twice. I will not ask it again."

"That's just as well, as I intend to continue not answering it," Garendel said with a contemptuous sneer. "You see that Sarah and your prophesied heir are unharmed; take her and the boy and leave. The Mediators will know where to find you." He deliberately turned his back on them, arms crossed as he glowered at the fire.

Sarah was obviously in no shape to answer questions, so Jareth let his eyes investigate the room in search of an answer to this latest puzzle. There were no obvious signs of damage…no, wait. There were ceramic shards by the bedside, and the comforter—was that blood? He delicately flared his nostrils, taking in the smell of the place, then moved closer to the bed, disbelieving his own senses; even Garendel wouldn't have…blood. And the heavy scent of sex still lingering.

With a snarl of rage he crossed the room and spun his cousin around to face him. "You dared!"

"She provoked," Garendel snarled back, not even flinching as Jareth's fingers dug into his shoulders. "I acted within my rights-"

His words broke off as Jareth punched him. Sarah gasped and fell back a step at the unexpected explosion of violence. She continued backing up until she felt the elaborate wooden bed post and curtains against her, then shied away as if burned. Her knees gave out and she sat heavily on the wooden chest at the foot of the bed, staring and staring at the fight that had erupted before her eyes.

The fight she saw was only part of the battle; magic was hurled as readily as blows, and Jareth, slowly but surely, was winning. Garendel abruptly vanished from sight, only to reappear a second later, looking stunned. "What, can't run away, _Cousin_?" Jareth taunted him. "Did I forget to mention that I encased your little home away from home in an enchantment only I and the Mediators can break?"

Garendel rushed him with a furious howl, bowling the Goblin King over, magical effects now clear even to Sarah's mortal eyes as he changed shape. Suddenly Jareth was fighting a monstrous wolf, snapping teeth only inches from his neck. Just as suddenly he was gone, he and the wolf both vanished with a pop loud enough to make Sarah wince. She rose uncertainly to her feet, but they reappeared once again, both in their regular forms. Knives appeared in Garendel's hands and she shouted out a warning, but Jareth ducked the attempted blows easily, almost dancing out of his cousin's reach, a mocking smile on his face.

"Cheating, Garendel? Why am I not surprised?" he tutted, dodging a knife thrust. He knocked his cousin's hand aside, grasping the wrist hard enough to cause the other man to gasp with pain. The knife dropped to the floor, and Jareth kicked it aside.

As if in a trance, Sarah stood up and walked over to where the discarded knife lay. The two men were grappling for possession of the remaining blade, eyes only on each other. Garendel grimaced and lunged, Jareth dodged, then suddenly Sarah realized she was standing behind the Summer King, arms raised above her hand, the dagger clenched in her fists.

"Sarah, no!" Jareth shouted, finally noticing her, but it was too late. With a scream of anger, she plunged the knife into Garendel's back, twisting it viciously as he cried out in pain.

Garendel fell into his cousin's arms, and Jareth collapsed with the unexpected weight to the floor, doing his best to stop the bleeding. "Sarah, get Elena, you don't know what you've done!"

But Sarah was frozen, staring down at the dying man, her lips trembling, eyes wide with shock, and Jareth knew it was too late even as he frantically tried to summon Garendel's assistant to their side.

"Too late for that, Cousin," Garendel gasped out, rolling his eyes upward to stare admiringly at Sarah. "Didn't think…you'd have it…in you." He coughed up a great gout of blood, then batted Jareth's hands away. "Don't…even…try…saving me," he gasped, then, unexpectedly, he laughed. The laugh ended in a choked cough as he managed to raise himself up on one elbow, staring at Jareth's despairing face with something like triumph. "I win," he whispered, then slumped to the floor, dead.


	10. Harsh Truths

_A/N: Warning - Angst alert!_

* * *

**Chapter 10 – Harsh Truths**

"What did he mean? What did he mean, he won?"

Sarah was trembling, twisting her hands together in a wringing motion, staring owl-eyed at the corpse lying at her feet. "Oh my God, I killed him," she whispered, stunned by the fact that she could have done something so horrific. Garednel's crimes seemed to fade in light of the payment she'd extracted.

"We don't have much time," Jareth muttered, sounding distracted. "Not much time at all...." He looked up at her. "Sarah, listen to me, it's very important…"

Too late. A bright light suffused the room, emanating from Toby's sleeping form. The small boy came awake with a howl of fear, breaking Sarah's numb shell. She wrenched her gaze from the body at her feet, crying out in horror as she saw her brother surrounded by a hazy golden nimbus. She raced to his side and took him in her arms, ignoring the feverish warmth of the glow and the small body it surrounded. "Jareth! What's happening?!?"

He was at her side in an instant, gazing sadly down at Toby. "What I feared. When you killed Garendel, all his power went to his declared heir." He gently touched Toby on the head, and the small boy's sobs slowed and finally ended as he nestled his still glowing head against Sarah's shoulder.

"No," Sarah whispered, horrified. "This can't be happening!" She sank to her knees with a low moan, still holding Toby, although he seemed unafraid now, gazing with interest at his hand, turning it this way and that as the glow and heat finally started to fade.

"Sarah," Jareth said gently, "this means Toby has to stay here, with us. I'm so sorry, love." He bowed his head. "I should have found a way to prevent this."

"This is all my fault," Sarah said numbly. "I just…the knife, it was lying there, and then he turned his back and all I could think of was, this is my chance. This is my only chance to get that bastard back for everything he's done to me and Toby."

Before Jareth could respond to her words, the doors to the room flew open and Elena dashed in, wide-eyed. "Is it true? Is he--" She stopped in mid-sentence, staring down at the body lying in a puddle of its own blood. She stared at Jareth, Toby and Sarah, then back at the body. A tremulous smile lit her face. "Thank heavens, it's finally over," she sobbed, dropping to her knees, smiling through the tears that streaked down her cheeks and dripped off her chin. "Thank you, Highness, thank you. You've won my freedom."

"Don't thank me," Jareth chided her. "Thank the lady Sarah. It was she who killed your master."

Elena turned radiant eyes on Sarah; rising slowly to her feet, she walked over them and dropped once again to her knees, this time bowing her head. "Thank you, my lady; you don't know what this means to me."

"She may not, but I do, and we both appreciate your thanks," Jareth interjected, eyeing the ceiling worriedly. "However, I also know what it means to this place for my cousin to have met his death. We must leave. Now."

Sarah started to ask why; when a faint rumbling shook the floor beneath her feet, she thought she understood. "He said this castle was fake, that he made it in the Winterlands to be neutral ground…"

"And now that he is gone, the magic binding this place into existence is disintegrating," Elena completed the thought. "As is the castle itself."

Jareth muttered something under his breath, then offered Elena his hand. Keeping a firm grip on Sarah and Toby with the other, he closed his eyes, and in seconds the four of them had disappeared. Moments after that, the entire castle collapsed into nothingness, leaving this corner of the Winterlands empty once more.

**oOo**

They reappeared in the Goblin King's own throne room, mercifully empty of anyone but themselves. Jareth released his hold on the other three, directing the two women to seats he conjured out of thin air, comfortable high-backed chairs each of which could have easily sat both of them. Toby remained mute, apparently too entranced by the faint glow that remained around him to do more than stare at his hands and pat himself gingerly, as if expecting to feel something other than his own self.

"What happens next?"

Jareth regarded Sarah out of mismatched eyes, lips pursed consideringly. "Now we wait."

Elena nodded her understanding. "Once the Summer King's death has made itself felt beyond the Winterlands, they will come." She shivered. "I must go; if anyone learns of my existence it could mean my death." Without explaining, she disappeared in a shower of silvery sparkles, leaving a faint scent of cinnamon behind.

Sarah blinked. "People come and go so quickly here," she murmured, fighting back a sudden urge to break out in tears. Right now, more than ever, Toby would need her to keep things together. She looked at Jareth beseechingly. "You won the Challenge; they can't make Toby stay, can they?"

Before he could reply a voice came from behind her.

"It is time."

Toby looked up, eyes wide with wonder as the three Mediators appeared before them, surrounded by a literal crowd of other beings, some human, some partly so, some completely alien mixtures of human and animal, human and bird, even human and plant. Some weren't even human at all, but all were completely expressionless, and all eyes were on Sarah and Toby and Jareth.

"But Jareth won the Challenge," Sarah protested again. "Toby gets to go home, that was the deal."

"That _was_ the deal, as you put it, until the Summer King met his death. He has no other heir besides your brother," the female Mediator said. "He formally proclaimed his desire to name the lad so in the presence of neutral witnesses, and died before he could renounce that declaration. The Challenge is void."

"It's not fair," Sarah blurted, then clenched her teeth shut. She wasn't fifteen, and it wasn't fair, nobody said it was. But it was her own fault, and she knew it.

"What happens next?" she asked, instead of screaming out the threats and demands and pleas she felt building in the back of her throat, almost overwhelmed by the need to find a way out of the situation she herself had created. Remotely, she realized that her voice had even remained steady and calm.

"The heir to the Summer Kingdom must be presented at the Primary Fae Court, his guardianship determined until he is of age and ability to take on his new duties and responsibilities," the second Mediator replied. "Bring him to us."

"I beg leave of the Court to allow Toby to stay with his sister and I until the formal presentation," Jareth interceded. He lowered himself to one knee and bowed his head. "I swear I have no designs on his Kingdom and will offer no harm to the lad. Nor will I or his sister attempt to remove him from the Underground or hide him away. I forfeit my own titles and lands should any such acts be attempted by either of us."

There was silence for a long moment; Sarah sat, stunned at what Jareth was willing to sacrifice to allow her to keep Toby with her. He trusted her, he was trusting her with his everything that meant anything to him, and she felt conflicted feelings for that trust. Toby had to come first, and she deliberately avoided voicing her own promises, feeling as if she were betraying Jareth by her silence but not knowing what else she could do. If she could find a way to get Toby back home, she would. And Jareth had to know that, yet he made his vow anyway. She blinked away tears as she waited for the response.

When the first Mediator spoke, there was a hint of approval in her voice and eyes. "Very well. You will be responsible for preparing him for his presentation nine days hence."

The entire group vanished as silently as they'd appeared, once again leaving Jareth, Sarah and Toby alone.

"Pretty," was Toby's only comment on the entire situation. He yawned and looked at Sarah hopefully. "Ice cream?"

Jareth snapped his fingers and the doors opened, revealing a flood of goblins pushing and shoving their way into the throne room. One figure stumbled to the front of the pack, turning and snarling at the rest to keep their distance. They stopped just inside the doors with a great deal of reluctance, waiting with avid eyes to see what would happen next. "Your Majesty," the stumpy figure said with a low bow. He looked up from under enormous eyebrows to smile at Sarah. "My lady." The smile faded as he regarded Toby. "Your Majesty," he said with another bow.

"Hoggle!" Sarah felt her own lips stretch into a welcoming smile; it felt so unfamiliar, as if it was an expression she hadn't practiced in a hundred years, but it felt good, too, so she let it remain. "It's great to see you!"

"Young master Toby has expressed a desire for ice cream," Jareth announced, holding his hand out to Sarah's brother. Toby took it eagerly, staring and staring at Hoggle, a delighted giggle making its way past his lips as he took in the dwarf's scraggly features. "Please escort him to the royal kitchens and make sure someone knows how to magic up the correct flavors."

"At once, Your Majesty." Hoggle offered another bow and a sad smile for Sarah before offering his own hand to Toby. He reached for it eagerly, then glanced back at Sarah.

"It's OK, Toby, you can go with Hoggle. He's a goblin," she added in an exaggerated whisper, managing another smile as her brother's eyes lit up in excitement.

"Right, young master, let's see what Chef has to eat," Hoggle said as Toby took his hand and walked with the dwarf to the door. The goblins there parted to allow them through as Hoggle asked; "So, what d'yer think of Bog Berry? 'Zat a good flavor to try, you think? Or mebbe Crinkle Berry?"

Sarah blinked more tears away as she smiled and waved. She waited until Jareth dismissed the gabbling mob of goblins, all demanding to know what happened and what they could do and how they could help, welcoming Sarah reverently, some daring to pat her stomach before scampering away. She saw Jareth assuming a scowl at their impudence, but she also saw the grin he hid at their exuberance, both coming and, finally, going.

The doors slammed shut behind them and she sank back into one of the chairs he'd summoned for her and Elena. "Why was Elena so frightened?" she asked as her thoughts made their way back to the other woman. "Is it something to do with her healing powers?"

Jareth's eyebrow rose at that revelation. "It could have everything to do with that, yes," he agreed, moving to stand next to her. "No doubt the Summer King kept her hidden from other Fae in order to keep her powers to himself. But we'll deal with the question of Elena later." He sank to one knee and reached for her hand. "What can I do to help?"

It wasn't the question she expected. "She healed me," she said by way of answer. "Elena did. They didn't act like it was a secret; no, that's not true," she interrupted herself with a frown of remembrance. "He told her to leave before anyone else came or it would mean her life."

Jareth hid his annoyance; it was obvious Sarah was focusing on the other woman to deflect his attention from herself. "Sarah," he tried again. "Please. We have nothing in the way of psychiatrists here in the Underworld, but keeping your pain to yourself won't help, either you or Toby."

"Lashing out didn't help either," she said sharply, withdrawing her hand from his and hugging herself as if still feeling the cold of the Winterlands. A shudder wracked her frame as she raised tortured eyes to meet his. "Please, Jareth, please, let it go for now," she begged him, her voice barely above a whisper. "You know what he did, you know how I must feel. You saw how I k-killed him."

"That, I think, is what pains you most, love," he replied, keeping his voice as low as hers. "Did you not know yourself capable of such actions?"

"All I know is I killed someone and because of that, Toby is stuck here forever!" she flared, moving away from him sharply, thrusting herself out of the chair and into an agitated pacing that flounced her skirt around like a whirlwind, hands once again wringing themselves together. "I doomed my own brother because I couldn't control myself, because I h-hated him so much, that bastard! This is all his fault, and now he's dead and I can't even p-punish him any more!" Her head dropped into her hands and she sank to the stone floor, sobbing.

Jareth was at her side in an instant, taking her in his arms, ignoring the way she stiffened in his hold before relaxing and allowing him keep his arms around her. They sat like that for a long time, until she couldn't cry any more, until words finally made their way back into her mind. "You must think I'm incredibly weak and stupid right now." She sounded exhausted, and he lifted her unresisting form easily in his arms.

"No, I think you're a mortal woman who's had a lot of terrible things happen to her in a very short period of time," Jareth murmured into her hair. "Sarah, I'm taking you to get some sleep, and then I'm going to track down Elena. I think you need help that I can't provide you." _Not yet,_ he amended silently.

He felt her nod, then rest her head against his shoulder as he summoned the magic to whisk them from the empty throne room to one of the spare bedroom suites, taking care that it in no way resembled the one in the faux Summer Palace.

The one they appeared in was decorated in deep blues and silver, not a hint of gold or cream; the furniture was delicate, but made of sturdy, darker woods, with straight legs and not a hint of gilt. The bed was a modest one more like the ones she would be used to in the human world, lower to the floor and barely wide enough for two to lie side by side, covered in a deep blue comforter. He placed her on it gently, noting how her eyelids were fluttering against her reddened eyes. "Sleep," he whispered gently, and her eyes closed obediently. Sleep would do her the most good, and he continued to whisper in her ear long after she'd passed into dreamland.

The words he whispered she would never have been able to understand even if she'd been awake, but the spell was the only thing he could think of to help her. When she awoke, she would still remember what his despised cousin had done to her, but it would seem farther in the past, just as her own vengeful actions would feel as if they had happened a long time ago.

Then, having done what little he could to distance the pain of the crimes committed against her, he vanished on his self-proclaimed errand: finding Elena.

Right now, Sarah desperately needed a friend, and he sensed that the other woman would help even more than her goblin companions, although he had already summoned them to the castle as well.

The problem of Toby would have to wait until later.


	11. Time Heals

**Chapter 11 – Time Heals**

Everything went so smoothly Sarah couldn't believe it. The ceremony installing Toby as the new Summer King. The other ceremony installing herself and Jareth as Toby's regents. The magical boundary-shifting so that the Summerlands abutted the Goblin King's realm in some way she still had no way of comprehending. The spells cast in the human realm to erase all knowledge of the Williams siblings from mortal minds.

That part was the hardest to take, knowing that Karen and Dad wouldn't even remember that they had two children taken out of their lives in a surgical strike worthy of any military campaign. Sarah had fought against that the hardest, fought and lost, just as it seemed she'd lost every battle since returning to the Underground.

Well, almost every one. When she and Jareth were officially named as Toby's regents, she nearly broke down in tears of relief; only a glance from Jareth kept her face as schooled as any mortal could manage while facing the entire Primary Fae Court.

Even her killing Garendel hadn't caused so much as a ripple of trouble for her. He'd provoked, she'd retaliated, and apparently that was considered justice down here. She shuddered thinking about it, whenever she allowed thoughts of what she'd done to surface and trouble the smoothness of her mind, a smoothness she worked hard to maintain. It felt like something that had happened a long time ago; when pressed, Jareth had admitted to doing something to make it seem that way. "To help you cope," he'd said, and she wasn't sure whether to thank him or slap him, so she did neither, focusing on Toby as she had all along.

Toby and her Goblin friends kept her sane. And Elena, when Jareth had located her and coaxed her back to his castle to stay with Sarah. "None shall harm you here," he'd promised, and so far that promise had held true.

Elena was Sarah's companion and Toby's nanny and governess all in one. Her presence had helped immensely in the days before the new Summer King's coronation, and was continuing to help now that it was a month behind them.

Sarah was now two months pregnant, still not showing, and still sleeping fitfully at best. The immediate sting of what had happened to her may have been blunted, but it hadn't disappeared entirely, and there were nights when her sleep was interrupted by nightmares that she refused to tell anyone about.

Jareth knew, of course, just as he seemed to know everything that happened in his kingdom. But she restricted her conversations with him to learning how to cope in the Underground now that it was to be her and Toby's permanent home, the intricacies of ruling two such disparate kingdoms at once, helping Toby understand his new role in life.

They'd had one argument after the coronation, a bitter one; another one that Sarah had lost. "Toby must be made to forget his past," Jareth told her the day after their return to his kingdom.

The words were bluntly stated, no sugar coating, and Sarah flared up exactly as he must have expected her to. "What? Why? What difference will it make? He's only three, he's already starting to forget!"

"Sarah," Jareth replied patiently, "you know as well as I do that such memories will only bring him pain and confusion. He still cries for his mother sometimes, and although that will fade with time, time is a luxury he does not have."

"What about me?" she'd asked bitterly. "You've already messed around in my head without permission, are you going to make me forget too? Got a magic peach for me to eat?"

He'd winced, actually winced at those words, as if he felt some sort of guilt, as if she'd managed to cause him pain. She refused to believe it of him, not now; she was too angry, with him, with the world she'd been forced into, with everything and everyone except Toby and Elena and her goblin friends. Even they occasionally felt the sharp edge of her tongue, all but Toby, if only because they had always known of the prophecy that held her fast in its thorny embrace.

He'd winced, but responded only with a negative shake of his head before vanishing abruptly in his usual shower of sparkles. He hadn't approached her for days afterward, and she'd turned to Elena for information and tutoring. If she was stuck here, she was determined to learn everything she could, not only for her sake and the sake of her unborn child, but for Toby as well. He would need every all he could find to deal with the cut-throat political world he'd been hurled into at such a tender age.

**oOo**

Sarah was in the beginning of her second trimester before she finally started feeling like herself again. The passing of the nausea helped, as did Elena's presence, but she still had a great deal of anger for Jareth. He'd spoken to her at length about politics, about Toby's future responsibilities, about how the complicated geography of the Fae realms was nothing like the geography of the world she was used to even though the politics was all too familiar, about anything and everything except the things she really wanted to know about: the prophecy, and why he'd gone ahead and erased Toby's memories of his human past without letting her know he'd done it.

She'd found out by accident one day, asking Toby some idle question about when they were back home. He'd simply stared at her, puzzled. "We home now, Sarah," had been his response, and Sarah had felt a cold trickle work its way down her spine, freezing her from head to toe in an instant. He'd done it; Jareth had gone ahead and done it behind her back.

"Do you remember mom and dad?" she'd asked, and Toby had shaken his head, shrugging as if it didn't matter to him, and of course it didn't. This was his world now, for better or worse, just as it was hers.

That had been at the end of her second month of pregnancy, and now she was well into her fifth and starting to feel like a beached whale as her mid-section expanded. The first time the baby kicked she'd been terrified, then awe-struck. Her baby had kicked. Her baby was real. Her baby would be born and she would be there to raise him, just as she was now helping to raise Toby.

It sent an unexpected thrill through her, to know that she was bringing new life into the world, any world. As her resentment toward Jareth finally started to fade from an active pain to a sort of numb bewilderment, her love for the life they'd created grew until finally, around her sixth month, she approached him for the first time without having to tamp down on her emotions, without having to remind herself not to shout at him or fight the urge to slap him. It was strange, but she welcomed it, especially since she knew it came from herself and not because of any spell he'd cast.

"I will never go into your mind again unless you ask it of me," he'd told her when she'd accused him of doing just that, to make her more accepting of him and being in the Underground for the rest of her life.

That had been almost a month ago; how had time managed to pass so quickly, when she expected it to drag? "Because you're too busy most of the time to notice it," she said aloud as she entered the throne room for the first time in months.

Jareth looked up at her entrance, raising a questioning eyebrow. He'd been lounging on the throne, staring out the window, but subtly braced himself as if for a confrontation. Sarah noticed it, as she always noticed everything about him, but only smiled to herself. Today she particularly noticed that he was very casually dressed, ungloved, no elaborate crown on his head, or vests or jackets over his simple white shirt and dark leather trousers, although as always he wore black boots that stopped mid-calf and showed off his well-shaped legs quite nicely.

"Jareth," she said as she made her awkward way to his side, trying not to blush as she realized she'd allowed herself to really notice his exotic good looks for the first time in months, "doesn't this place have gardens?"

He'd obviously not been expecting that question; he blinked once to show his confusion before smoothing out his features so rapidly she wouldn't have seen it if she hadn't been looking for it. "You know we do, Sarah," was his cautious reply. "You've taken Toby to play in them between lessons."

She shook her head. "Not the Summerland gardens," she said. "Here, in the Goblin Realm. Hoggle says he can't take me there without your permission." She'd refused to learn anything about Jareth's own realm during her tutoring, at least as far as the physical layout went. Now, in light of her own mellowing mood, she found herself curious to know more of what she'd previously disdained. "Show me?"

He rose from his throne, still radiating caution, as if expecting her to suddenly turn and bite him. She stifled a grin at that image, merely holding out her hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He took it carefully, and she reveled in the feeling of putting the Goblin King off balance the way he so often did to her.

"Yes, there are gardens, and fields, farms and villages, almost everything you'd find in the Summerlands or the human countryside," he told her as her fingers wrapped around his. "I can take you to see as much as you'd like." He glanced down at her stomach doubtfully. "Whatever you feel up to seeing," he amended.

Sarah patted her stomach complacently. "Oh, we feel up to just about anything today," she said airily, again hiding a smile at the disconcerted frown Jareth couldn't help showing at her unexpected attitude change. After all, the last words they'd exchanged had been cool at best.

The tour was wonderful, just stopping and looking and questions asked and answered before they were magically off to the next stop. Sarah made him take her everywhere, if only for a few minutes at a time, until she'd been shown every last village and hamlet and farm in his realm. When they returned to the castle she felt pleasantly exhausted and asked Jareth to take her directly to her rooms. He did so, and she eased herself into the nearest chair with a sigh of gratitude. When he made to leave, she stopped him, surprising herself as well as him this time. "Do you have to go?"

He regarded her steadily before shaking his head. "No, I can stay."

Sarah waved a hand at the chair next to hers. "Please. I'd like to talk, if you don't mind."

That put his guard back up, but he took the indicated seat, crossing his legs with the unconscious elegance of all his kind. She pouted at her own current lack of elegance at doing just about anything, then felt the baby kick and smiled. Without thinking, she reached over and placed Jareth's ungloved hand over her stomach, stopping just short of touching distance. "He's kicking, or she is," she said, suddenly shy, looking anywhere but at his face. "I thought you might want to feel."

"Thank you," he said simply, and she heard the sincerity in his voice as he placed reverent fingers over her abdomen.

He went so still he might have been one of the marble statues littering the Summerland countryside, his face unmoving but lit from within with the wonder of any parent feeling their child's first movements. Sarah had grown used to the restless presence within her, but today was the first time she'd allowed Jareth to do more than look at her since their return to his kingdom five long months ago. Greatly daring, she rested her hand on his and allowed herself to look directly into his eyes.

He looked back at her without expression, then suddenly smiled. "You've forgiven me?"

She bit her lip, considering. "Yeah, I guess I have," she said after a moment. "Not for everything, but I guess you didn't have a lot of choice in this, either. Did you?"

It was the first time in a long time that she'd broached the subject of the prophecy, even indirectly, and she wondered if he would answer the implied question as well as the one she'd actually asked.

"No, no choice at all," he said, his fingers still resting lightly on her abdomen even though the baby had subsided, apparently lulled into sleep by the feel of its parents' hands hovering above its current home. "Prophecy holds a great deal of power here, though it's seldom spoken of."

"Can you speak of it now?" Sarah asked. "You wouldn't tell me anything before, but I hope it was just because I was so mad I wouldn't have been really listening to what you could tell me. But I'm listening now. Please, tell me?"

He sighed, absurdly grateful for her willingness to finally share their child's presence with him, to do more than simply tolerate him as a means to an end. He'd begun to fear that such a change of heart was beyond her without magical meddling, which he'd foresworn although sorely tempted many a time to go back on his word. "It's difficult to explain," he finally said. "Difficult to put in terms that will make sense to you, I mean. The prophecy itself was very straightforward: _The one who bests you at the Labyrinth will be the one to deliver you an heir,"_ he quoted.

Sarah frowned. "That's it?" she demanded. "That's all? What's so difficult to explain about that?"

"It's not just the words themselves, it's how prophecy works here," he explained. "The messenger was unexpected, a changeling you'd call her. She functioned in my father's court the way Elena does for Toby, as nursemaid and instructor, but she was born in the human world, taken as an unwanted child in infancy and raised here. We call them enchanted ones, the ones that are elevated to join the Fae and not turned into goblins or simply left as humans."

Sarah shuddered at the memories his words invoked; Toby had nearly been turned into a goblin, and although she liked goblins just fine now that she was used to them and their eccentricities, it still wasn't a fate she'd wish on anyone, to become other than what they really were. Of course, there were transformations and transformations, but she pushed that thought aside, concentrating instead on Jareth's next words.

"For prophecy to work through one such as Kara is rare, almost unheard of," he continued, gazing just past Sarah's shoulder as if seeing that day once again. "She was an enchanted one, but only in the sense of her mortality being lifted from her so she had the possibility of living as long as one of us. She married a minor member of the Primary Fae Court and resides with him still in his lands, but has never been touched by prophecy since that day," he added as an aside, a fond smile lightening his features. "I still miss her sometimes." He blinked as if surprised to find himself admitting that, but Sarah glowed with happiness that he was willing to share so much after she'd given him nothing but grief—well-deserved grief, but grief nonetheless—for so long.

"When prophecy is spoken, we have to consider the medium as well as the message," Jareth went on, his eyes still far away, his hand warm beneath hers. "The words, the way they are spoken, who speaks them, all have meaning. Sometimes," he added, looking at her once again, "they are found carved into walls or written on scraps of paper or even entwined in the sounds of a stream making its way through the world."

"How can you tell prophecy from, say a prank? What if someone just makes something up and waits to see how everyone reacts?" Sarah asked.

"Because it's something that makes itself heard and recognized in way I really cannot explain to you, beyond the fact that we simply know it to be truth, deep in our very souls," was his reply. He shrugged. "I'm sorry, that's simply the way it is. We Fae can recognize true prophecy, just as many of us can recognize falsehood when we hear it, or sense when we're under attack even before our opponent strikes. The difference is that we all feel prophecy resonating; as soon as it makes itself known, it makes itself known to all Fae, born or enchanted."

Sarah nodded her acceptance of his words, if not her complete understanding, then gestured for him to continue. He'd been right to refuse to try and explain it to her earlier; she never would have been able to understand even this much before. Never been _willing_ to, she admitted silently, too caught up in her anger and fear.

"One of the bindings of prophecy is how it can be spoken of, and to whom." Sarah straightened up, just a little; this was the part she was really interested in. "I was present when it was spoken, although I was very young at time, even by human standards. Prophecy caused my father to build the Labyrinth that is so much a part of the Goblin Realm that one can hardly imagine a time when it wasn't there." He smiled briefly at her, an impish glint in his eyes. "If you believed it was created just for you, in a way, it was. Only some of the details changed to match your beloved story once you caught my attention."

That was a question she decided to leave for another day; how exactly _had_ she caught his attention in the first place? "So why didn't you tell me before you came to me that night?" she asked softly. The question that truly mattered. "Why didn't you warn me what would happen?"

He sighed. "Because there are rules, complicated rules, rules you wouldn't believe if you heard them because to the logical human mind they'd make absolutely no sense."

Sarah made a face. "Try me!"

Jareth shook his head. "The only way I could truly make you understand would be to put the concepts directly into your mind."

She shrank back from him as much as the overstuffed chair would allow. "I guess I don't need to know that much," she stammered, her heart stuttering in her chest.

Jareth nodded, as if expecting her response. He held very still, as if afraid to move, until her hand finally relaxed on his and her breathing and heart rate returned to normal. "You could not know the terms of the prophecy until after your part in it was…" He hesitated, searching for the correct word. "…confirmed."

"In other words, you couldn't tell me till you already got me pregnant," Sarah guessed. "Because of these complicated, not logical rules."

Jareth nodded, even though it wasn't really a question. "I'm sorry, it's the best explanation I can offer you now. Will you just accept that this is how it had to be?''

Sarah considered his request for a long moment, idly entwining her fingers through his, not noticing how his breath caught in his throat as she did so, how his heart rate increased and his pupils dilated. When she finally spoke, it was in a slow, thoughtful voice. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to just accept anything about this situation," she answered. The one he'd expected, if not the one he'd hoped for. "But for now, it'll have to do. I'm still trying to figure out the basics of living here, let alone anything as complicated as this prophecy thing. But I do have one more question, if you don't mind."

"Anything," he breathed without meaning to, but the word was spoken and her grin made him very sorry he'd said it.

"That night," she said, once again speaking slowly, picking out her words with care. She blushed as a series of vivid memories flashed through her mind. "That night," she tried again, after clearing her suddenly clogged throat. "Why could you only stay till the moon left my window?"

"Because prophesied moments almost always have time limits attached, whether implied or overt," he replied, his fingers tightening on hers. "If you weren't the one, then nothing more would have come of it. That would have been the end of our story, instead of just the beginning. It has to do once again with Kara being the medium through which the message was sent," he tried as she gave him a puzzled, disbelieving look. "And because you were mortal as well. Being mortal means having limits a Fae does not, do you understand? As your life had limits based on time, so must our time together until prophecy was fulfilled." _Or denied,_ but he didn't want to get into that with her now, not when she'd finally started speaking to him again, allowing her back into her private sphere after holding him aloof for so many long, lonely months.

Sarah shook her head ruefully. "Yeah, I'm not sure I get that, but OK. We had limits on us because we had limits on us." She looked back at him with an uncertain smile. "But there aren't any limits on us now, are there?"

He was happy to answer that question. "None. When you are ready, I will be here for you."

"What about when the baby's born?" some inner devil prompted her to ask. "Will you be with me then?"

He looked taken aback, then grimly determined as he answered. "It is not usual, but nothing dictates that I leave your side during childbirth except custom. If you wish me to be there, I will be there."

Sarah giggled at the expression of noble fortitude on his face. "Thanks, but I think Elena will do just fine," she gasped at the end of the giggle fit. "I just wanted to see your expression when I asked."

He stared at her so long her smile faltered and she dropped her eyes, only to feel his free hand move to cup her chin and tug her face back up gently to meet his. Then his lips were on hers and she was kissing him back with a fervency she hadn't anticipated.

She felt herself whimper when he abruptly pulled away. "My apologies," he said in a hoarse voice. "I forget myself." His glance darted toward her mid-section then back up to meet hers.

"Jareth, pregnant women are allowed to have sex; even I know that," she protested, but he shook his head.

"No. I can wait until you are truly ready. After the babe is born." With that he rose to his feet, removing his hand reluctantly from her abdomen and kissing her fingers. That was apparently his good-bye, because he vanished before she could offer another protest.

Sarah sank back into her chair, once again wearing a pout. Men! Just when you wanted to, they didn't. It had taken her months to get to this point, and he turned her down. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

She looked daggers at the place he'd just occupied. "Just you wait, Jareth," she muttered. "After this baby is born, you're going to regret saying no to me now." A smile curved her lips. "I think I need to have a serious talk with Elena about how to seduce a Goblin King."

After all, turnabout was fair play.


	12. Baby Talk

**Chapter 12 – Baby Talk**

It was nearing the end of her ninth month of pregnancy, and Sarah felt like a whale. Nothing anyone could say could change her mind, although she secretly enjoyed Jareth's repeated attempts to convince her otherwise.

"Why do you continue to torture him?" Elena asked one afternoon as she brushed Sarah's hair preparatory to putting it up in some elaborate hairstyle or other. "I thought you'd made your peace with your new life."

"I have, mostly." Elena looked politely disbelieving, and Sarah gave a half-smile of acknowledgment. "I have, but that doesn't let him completely off the hook. He deserves it," she explained at the other woman's puzzled look. "Jareth isn't exactly innocent in all this, never mind prophecy and the stupid rules that guide this place."

Elena looked at her consideringly, then nodded. "I suppose you're right," she agreed.

It was a major step forward for her, to agree out loud with a negative opinion of the Goblin King. It had taken Sarah months just to get Elena to admit that life under the rule of the previous Summer King had been less than perfect; in spite of her outburst at his death when she declared her relief she'd been much more withdrawn once Jareth convinced her to come to his castle to keep Sarah company.

She'd taken to her duties like she was born to them, not only keeping Sarah company but doing a splendid job with Toby as well. Although it still troubled Sarah that her brother no longer remembered home, at least it meant he was happy almost all the time. Except, of course, when being told what to do by his new nanny and instructor; then he whined like any other three-year-old who just wanted to play and eat ice cream.

As for torturing Jareth…she still hadn't completely forgiven him for his part in getting her pregnant and forcing her and Toby into a life in the Underground. Nor had she forgiven him for turning her down when she was ready to share her bed with him, to see if the second time would be as special as the first.

To see if she could actually let him do more than just kiss her, especially after what Garendel had done to her.

She was brooding a little, trying not to but not sure how to stop when she felt a sharp pain lance through her mid-section. She spread soothing fingers across her much expanded belly as the pain receded

"That was less than fun," she muttered.

"Are you all right?" Elena asked, putting the brush on the vanity.

Sarah half-shrugged. "Just a little reminder that I'm not living alone in this body these days," she replied. "I think I'll take a walk and see if that helps." She struggled to her feet, then gasped as she felt a spreading wetness between her legs. "Elena, I think my water just broke!"

**oOo**

The news that the Goblin King's heir was in the process of being born spread rapidly throughout the Goblin Realm, the Summer Kingdom, and finally to the ears of the Fae Court and other realms of the Underground. The news that the Goblin King was actually attending the Lady Sarah as she writhed in labor pain, that he intended to be there the moment the child was born, spread almost as quickly, and with much more disbelief.

"I told you I was only joking," Sarah grunted as the most recent contraction ended. Jareth merely smiled down at her, although he did wince a bit as the hand she was clutching started to regain feeling.

He wiped the sweat from her forehead, then leaned down and placed a tender kiss on her lips. "Yes, you said it, love, but I know you didn't mean it. The men in your world only recently started attending their children's births; shall the Fae be proven to be less capable of mortals?"

"Ah, it's a matter of pride, eh?" Sarah managed to smile up at him, although it turned to a grimace as her back spasmed.

She was in Jareth's bed chamber; he'd insisted that she give birth to their child in that exact location. Then he'd insisted that no, he wasn't leaving, no matter what the scandalized Fae midwife and Elena thought.

Another contraction made its way across Sarah's belly, and she hissed through her teeth in pain. She'd persuaded Jareth to at least get her a pile of home-birthing books from Aboveground, and also twisted the promise out of him that, if anything were to go wrong, he would take her and the baby to a hospital emergency room right away. Knowing that his own mother had died giving birth to him had made that promise an easy one to extract, consequences be damned.

Breathing heavily, Sarah just wished this ordeal was over and done. Hours had passed, and the midwife predicted hours more to go, and the herbs she'd given Sarah were only soothing between the actual contractions. "It's a magical land, why can't you do something about the pain?" Sarah had asked Jareth after she'd been ensconced in his king-sized bed.

"Women's magic isn't something I know anything about," had been his frank admission. "Well?" he'd turned to the midwife to demand. "Can something be done?"

"Not for a mortal," had been the short reply, and for once Sarah wished she'd been taken as a changeling, made into an enchanted one, and had access to whatever made the Fae women have such a painless time of birth. Then she remembered how Jareth's mother had died, and stopped wishing for magic to help her out. Who knew, it might have been magic that caused the Goblin Queen to lose her life. She'd have to look into it. Later. Much, much later…

"Aaaah!" she cried as the next contraction hit, followed immediately by a sensation she'd never experienced before. Not that menstrual cramps could remotely compare to having a baby, but at least it was a magnification of something she'd felt before. This was different; was it the urge to push she'd read so much about?

Apparently so. "Good, my lady, the babe is ready to join us now," the midwife said, sounding surprised. "Elena, prepare the blankets and the knife."

Elena hastened to do as she was told, her face nearly as pale at Sarah's. For all her healing skills (and her ability to heal did nothing for Sarah's birthing pains, she'd tried and failed to ease her labors early on), she'd never participated in the delivery of a child, either human or Fae. Or, as this one would be, a mix.

Sarah moaned in pain, wishing mightily for the Underground to discover a magical way to give an epidural, or at least morphine. The midwife made encouraging noises, there was a sudden intake of breath from Jareth coupled with an almighty desire to push from her own body, then suddenly it was over.

"Boy or girl?" Sarah asked weakly as Elena handed the midwife the knife and blanket. All she could see was a red face and tufts of dark hair, the curve of an ear and a little fist that raised itself as if in protest.

The midwife looked up briefly from her work. "Boy," she said, then went back to severing the umbilical cord while the Goblin King's son and heir protested at the top of his lungs this strange new environment he'd been forced into.

"It's a boy," Sarah whispered, looking up at Jareth with a tired smile. He leaned down and kissed her forehead, smoothing away the tendrils of sweaty hair that were falling around her eyes.

"Congratulations, you've just become a mother," he whispered back. "And if you thought a mortal child was difficult to attend to…"

She turned her head away. "Not now, Jareth. Tease me about what a pain he's going to be later. Right now I just want to hold him."

Right on cue the midwife handed her the bundled, squalling infant. "Healthy, no telling how strong he'll be in magic till later, but he looks very good," she said, still not wasting any words. "Congratulations to you both. What name shall I announce?"

Sarah looked up at Jareth, alarmed. "We have to have a name for him now?" she squeaked. She hadn't realized she'd have to come up with something so soon; hell, she and Jareth hadn't even gone over a list of names for boys _or_ girls.

"His name is Lysander," Jareth announced. "After his paternal great-uncle of the same name. Great-great-great uncle," he amended, murmuring into Sarah's ears.. "A Spartan general in your world, love. Great in battle, victorious over the Greeks…"

"Don't I have any say in it?" she demanded, eyes narrowed in anger. How dare he…

But the midwife and Elena were both staring at her as if she were crazy, and Jareth was shaking his head. "No. The naming of an heir goes to the holder of the throne he is to inherit. Unless, of course, a situation such as that of your brother Toby arises." Toby, who would be referred to as King Tobias when he was older, as Sarah already knew.

Lysander didn't seem to care one way or the other, and since he wasn't likely to be in a situation where he'd be teased for such an outrageous name by school children, Sarah decided to let it go. However, she and Elena were going to have a very intense discussion in case any other Fae child-rearing issues raised their ugly heads. Later, of course. After she'd been able to get some sleep.

Lysander was ahead of her there; his little eyelids were drooping as if being born were just as exhausting as giving birth. Which, Sarah assumed, it was. She smiled at him sleepily, murmuring a protest as Jareth lifted him gently from her arms.

"I must go and present him as my heir to the Primary Fae Court," he reminded her. That much she had been told, so she nodded reluctant agreement, having no desire to go there herself. Certainly not at the moment, all sweaty and exhausted, dressed in something that no doubt would be thrown down the nearest oubliette at the first opportunity…

Jareth kissed her again, with a tenderness that startled her back to full wakefulness. "Thank you," he whispered, smiling down at her. Then he and the baby were gone, leaving Sarah to be fussed over by Elena, cleaned up, magically relieved of any leftover pain, and brought to her own chambers to sleep.

**oOo**

After Jareth and Lysander returned from their presentation, they visited Sarah, only to find her deeply asleep. Jareth laid his son in the cradle that had been his own as an infant and sat at the foot of the bed. Lysander was sleeping as well, but he wanted to be in the room when his son woke for his first feeding.

His son. Jareth couldn't keep the smile from his lips no matter how hard he tried, so he didn't bother. They'd made one stop on the way back from Lysander's presentation to visit Toby and show him his nephew. He'd gazed wide-eyed at the small, squirming form, made a face and backed off when Jareth had offered to let him hold him. "Zander's too noisy," had been Toby's objection.

Zander. It was a good shortening of Lysander's name; he hoped Sarah would approve. Since Toby was the one who instituted it, she probably would. He frowned, hoping the two of them weren't in for a series of arguments over child-rearing strategies. He wasn't about to let her know that she was going to be nursing her son only because he'd intervened in the Primary Fae Court's attempts to find a wet nurse from among their changeling ranks. Nor would he tell her how he'd had to argue against sending his son out to be reared by others, the way he had when first born.

Sarah's mortality hadn't been an issue when it had been assumed she would simply have the baby and return to her own life Aboveground. Toby's permanent presence precluded Sarah's return, and now she was an Issue. "An Issue with issue," he murmured dryly. One day soon he would have to approach her about becoming an enchanted one, just as he would have to remind her that Toby had already become one by virtue of his assumption of the Summer King's powers and responsibilities, however dormant they lay within his small frame at the moment.

There were a lot of things he and Sarah were going to have to discuss, things he'd let slide for far too long. Things that she wasn't going to like hearing, but hear them she would.

Not tonight, however. Tonight she would sleep until Lysander awoke, then she would need at least a month to become used to motherhood. After that, well, no one would let him delay long after that.

Whimsical and contrary and illogical as humans found the Fae, there were very rigid rules and structures, and one of them involved one's place in society. Elena had been an undeclared Talent; undeclared by the Summer King, her liege lord, for his own selfish purposes. When her term of service as Toby's governess and Sarah's companion reached an end, she would have other duties more befitting the rank her Talent gave her in Fae society.

Sarah also had to be given an official place. Mother of the Goblin King's heir sounded wonderful to his ears, but it wasn't a title anyone in power above him would accept. If she refused to become an enchanted one, a changeling mortal bestowed of the same virtual immortality the Fae enjoyed, then she would have fewer rights than the lowliest of his goblins, now that the child was born.

Another aspect of life here in the Underground she was certain to hate. He just wished there were more parts of it she could enjoy, and vowed to do his best to find them for her.

Zander whimpered, moving his arms and legs as if trying to flee the confines of the cradle, then gave voice to a full-throated wail. Sarah started awake, but Jareth soothed her with a hand on her arm. "Easy, love, I'll fetch him for you. He's just hungry."

"Hungry. Right." Curiously, Sarah was blushing even as she fumbled at the ties to her nightgown. "Um, are you planning to stay?" she asked as he carried Zander over and placed him gently in his mother's arms.

Jareth raised an eyebrow, then realized she probably couldn't see him in the darkened room. The only light came from the fire, and his face was cast in shadows from where she was sitting. Before he could offer an answer, Zander whimpered and opened and closed his mouth a few times. Sarah literally forgot Jareth's presence in light of her son's immediate need and finished undoing her nightgown, allowing it to slide down one shoulder as she maneuvered her son into the correct position, gasping a little as he clamped down and began sucking with a great deal of energy. His little fists waved in the air, his legs kicked, and Sarah gazed down at him adoringly. "He's perfect," she whispered.

"Absolutely," Jareth agreed. Sarah started, showing exactly how forgotten he'd been, and he smiled, this time leaning forward so she could see his face, placing a gentle hand on his son's head. "I say it again; thank you, Sarah, for giving me such a wonderful gift."

"Don't thank me, thank prophecy," she retorted, but without any real malice behind her words that he could sense. "I wasn't exactly out of my mind with joy when I found out I was pregnant, or that Toby and I would have to stay here," she continued after a moment. "But Zander here makes it all worth it."

Jareth laughed, then had to explain why he found her choice of nickname for their son humorous.

Peace descended on them, the quiet of enjoying the new life they'd brought into the world. Yes, there would be arguments and tears, anger and hurt in the future, as they adjusted to each other's presence in their lives, but for now, all that could be set aside as they watched their son suckling at his mother's breast.

* * *

_A/N: OK, so I guess I have a few more chapters left than I expected, but I couldn't just gloss over the whole giving-birth-naming-the-baby thing. As for where I got the idea for the baby's name: not sure. I was just mulling names and that one popped into my head. I googled it to make sure it wasn't a girl's name, read about the Spartan general and decided it was perfect. R&R and let me know what you think!_


	13. The Art of Seduction

**Chapter 13 – The Art of Seduction**

"It's been six freaking months! Six months! How long does he think it takes a woman to recover from having a baby, anyway!"

Sarah was pacing up and down from the window to the door and back again while Elena sat by fireplace with an embroidery hoop on her lap. She was half-way through the bodice for Sarah's new dress, her eyes full of amusement. "I will hazard a guess, my lady, that the answer to your question is…at least six months?"

Sarah glared at her. "Ha. Ha. Very funny," she snarled. "He won't let me put Zander in your chamber for even one single night. 'Not till he's weaned, love,'" she said in savage mimicry of Jareth's cajoling tones. Tones he used only with her; she hadn't missed _that_ little fact, either. "Do you know how frustrating it's been?"

Elena offered her a sad smile. "No, my lady. Never have I felt the love for any that you obviously have for the Goblin King."

That brought Sarah up short; she stopped her agitated pacing and sank thoughtfully onto the wide window seat. "Love?" she whispered, half to herself. "Is that it? Am I in love with him?"

"If you are not, my lady, then you have been demonstrating one of the better impersonations of a woman in love that I have ever seen, and believe me, I have seen many, even if I have not experienced that emotion myself." Elena placed her embroidery on the table next to her chair and rose to her feet. With a rustle of skirts she joined Sarah on the window seat, settling next to her and placing a comforting arm around the younger woman's shoulders. "Has it not occurred to you that this is the cause of your discomfort, and not simply a matter of lust?"

Sarah blushed at Elena's frank speech, although it was a quality she had encouraged in the changeling girl. "I've never even thought about it," she admitted after a moment. "But you say it's obvious? You mean to you, right?"

She knew she was grasping at straws, but her heart nevertheless plunged into her shoes at Elena's slow nod to the negative.

"If it makes you feel any better, my lady, I don't believe His Majesty sees it."

_That_ got Sarah's attention. "He doesn't? But everyone else does? That doesn't make any sense!"

Elena hesitated before continuing. "Perhaps it is because he worries that you stay here only for the sake of your brother and your son."

Sarah opened her mouth to deny any such thing, then closed it thoughtfully. She'd certainly never given Jareth any signs otherwise; even her hints that she would welcome him back into her bed could be taken as a mere desire for—well, for mere desire.

"So, then he's avoiding me because he thinks I don't love him?"

Elena nodded. "I believe so, my lady." She still had a hard time just calling Sarah by her name, and Sarah in turn had given up trying to force the issue.

"So I guess I'd better figure it out for myself," Sarah decided.

**oOo**

Figuring it out didn't take long, once she sat down to do so. Prophecy may have had a hand in her first—and so far only—intimate relationship with the Goblin King, but once Zander was born she assumed there was nothing else to it, and had that belief confirmed by Elena and several of the Primary Fae Court noblewomen with whom she had become, if not friends, then at least friendly.

She still resented having been forced into staying Underground, although she'd long since come to terms with the fact that she had played her own not insubstantial part in causing that situation. The resentment was general, however, no longer directed at any one person. Well, if she were being honest, no longer being directed at the Goblin King. She'd gained enough perspective and insight into how things worked Underground to realize what an impossible situation the two of them had faced.

The thing she most resented, most fought against, was Toby's continued presence here as well. Fourteen months into his reign as the Summer King, or at least into Jareth's regency, and he was learning rapidly what things would be expected of him once he reached the proper age. Sarah had arranged a birthday party for him when he turned four, and there were enough children around his age to make it as chaotic as any normal four-year-old's party back home. The fact that some of the children were only vaguely human didn't bother Toby one bit, although such things still had to power to discomfit Sarah every now and again.

But their parents—her and Toby's dad, Karen, her own mother—none of them remembered either child, and she'd been allowed a glimpse or two into the situation back home, as she persisted in thinking of the Aboveground, enough to show her that things were just fine without the two of them. In fact, Karen was pregnant again, which gave Sarah pause; had she and Dad been planning on another baby before she and Toby were taken away?

In the end, it didn't matter. The only thing that did matter was that Toby was settling in just fine, so Sarah's resentment on his behalf wasn't doing anyone much good. Still, it was a difficult emotion to relinquish.

Difficult, yes, but at least it was recognizable; when, on the other hand, had she started to fall in love with Jareth? And fall in love she had, that was the inescapable conclusion she came to when mulling over her conversation with Elena. "I love him," she said aloud, the words echoing slightly against the bathing chamber's walls. She'd gone for a good, long soak while Zander was out taking the air with Elena, enjoying the amenities of the sunken, pool-like tub in its black-and-white marble setting. A pile of sumptuous towels lay upon the marble bench next to where the tub's four marble steps led up to floor level, and a basket of aromatic hair- and body-care products lay near at hand.

She was just rinsing her hair off when she heard a sound in the other room. "I'm in here!" she called out, assuming it was Elena bringing Zander back. The generous bubbles hid her body from view, but Elena had been present at the baby's delivery and already had a good idea of what a naked Sarah looked like, and could care less.

As she heard the door open she rose to her feet, intending to reach for a towel, then inhaled in astonishment as she realized it wasn't Elena who had entered the room, but Jareth.

They stared at each other, each frozen in a pose of surprise. Sarah felt the water and bubbles dripping down her body as she stood there, clutching the back-scrubber in one hand before slowly allowing it to drop back into the water as she saw the look in Jareth's eyes. She swallowed, hard, then waited as he crossed the room, his clothes vanishing like smoke as he reached the edge of the sunken tub, eyes smoldering with an emotion she had no problem identifying. It was the intensity of that look that set her limbs to trembling; so the Goblin King hadn't been nearly as patient about their lack of intimacy as he'd appeared. Something to file away for future reference. Much later. When she could actually form coherent thoughts again.

Jareth joined her in the water, pulling her close and slashing his mouth across hers in a desperate, probing kiss that took her breath away and turned her knees to jelly. She clung to him, pressing herself as closely against him as she could, opening her mouth for a deeper, more satisfying kiss.

When each had reached a long-overdue climax she collapsed atop him, nestling her head against the curve of neck and shoulder, stroking his cheek absently with one hand while the other came to rest near her chin. "Wow," was all she managed. "That was worth waiting for."

Jareth made a noise of discomfort, and she wiggled herself into a position that placed less of a strain on his lower half. His arms encircled her waist once again, and he kissed the top of her head. "My apologies," he began, but Sarah snapped her head up to face him.

"Don't you dare!" she said, eyes flashing dangerously. "Don't you dare get started on how your lust got the better of you! This was what we both wanted, and you know it!"

He subsided, blinking in surprise at the vehemence of her protests, whatever he'd been about to say dying on his lips. "True enough, at least on my part," he murmured instead. "But Sarah, surely you…"

"Surely I what? Didn't want this? I've only been dropping hints for the past four months!" she replied in exasperation. Then she remembered what Elena had told her and her anger vanished. "And it's not just the sex, although that was fantastic," she added, blushing. "It's how I feel about you." This was it, the moment of truth; would she tell him what she'd discovered, or would she chicken out at the last minute? She waited for her next words with almost as much interest as Jareth. "Jareth, it's taken me a long time to realize it, but I love you."

She'd done it, she'd really done it. And if he didn't feel the same? Well, then she was about to receive the let-down to beat all let-downs.

He was silent for a long time, long enough for Sarah to start regretting her words. But no; they were the truth, and so regretting them was a waste of energy. She shifted herself in his hold, preparatory to moving away from him, but his arms tightened around her and she tilted her head up to look at him.

"Such sweet words, words I've longed to hear," he said, lips curved in a light smile. "But I beg of you, Sarah, be sure you mean them, absolutely sure, for love has as great a power here as any magic."

"I do mean them," she replied, pulling him down for a gentle kiss. "I love you," she repeated when the kiss ended. "I think I've loved you for a long time, even when I hated you."

"And I loved you long before I set eyes on you, for I'd determined that no one but one I loved would ever give me an heir, prophecy or no prophecy," Jareth murmured in response. "How fortunate I was that it worked out exactly the way I, in my youthful arrogance, determined it would."

"So, I guess maybe Zander can sleep in Elena's chambers once in a while?" Sarah asked after a moment spent simply basking in the pleasure of being in Jareth's embrace.

Leaning against his chest, she felt the laughter that bubbled up from his lips before she heard it escape. "Yes, of course."

"Even though he's not weaned yet?" some devil made Sarah ask.

"Even though," Jareth agreed, blithely contradicting his earlier protestations. "I waited not out of fear for you and the baby, but out of cowardice," he admitted. He looked at her suspiciously. "But you knew that already."

She nodded. "I didn't figure it out on my own," she confessed. "But once I did, once I realized you were, um, _concerned_ that I didn't love you, then I understood." She laughed. "Of course, if I'd realized all I had to do to coax you into making love to me was to let you see me naked in the bath…"

"Then all this, perhaps, would have reached its inevitable conclusion that much sooner," Jareth finished with a certain gleam in his eye that had been missing ever since Sarah and Toby's arrival in the underground. She tilted her head for a kiss that was far from gentle, winding her arms around his neck, feeling the nudge of his renewed arousal against her thighs.

He lifted her in his arms and carried her, both of them soaking wet and neither one caring, into the bed chamber. The bed itself was reached in record time; Sarah had no recollection of the journey, enmeshed as they were in another toe-tingling kiss. Jareth lay her gently on the downy comforter, covering her body with his own, lips and tongue making their heavenly way down her body as she moaned and writhed beneath him.

"Oh dear!"

The sound of that voice brought all activity to a stop; Jareth scowled over his shoulder while Sarah squeaked and tried to wiggle her way under the covers. Jareth's hand on her shoulder stopped all such motion as he continued glaring at a mortified Elena.

She had entered the bed chamber, presumably after not hearing a response to her usual knock, Zander in her arms and a basket dangling from her elbow. The baby was sleeping, Sarah had time to notice before Elena whirled them both around. "Your pardon, I beg you!" she said to the wall in front of her. "Zander and I will be, uh, we'll be—elsewhere!" With that she fled back through the door, pulling it shut hastily behind her.

Sarah collapsed in a heap of nervous giggles while Jareth turned his glare on her. "Well, it's funny!" she protested when she could spare the breath.

"I should have placed a spell on that door long ago, forbidding entry if you and I were engaged in amorous activities," he muttered, glaring at the inoffensive aperture as if it were the door's fault they'd been interrupted.

"Hey, don't worry about it; it'll never happen again," Sarah replied, coaxing his head back to face her by placing her hand on his cheek and stroking it gently.

He made a sound deep in the back of his throat, half-growl and half-purr of pleasure, then recaptured her lips without another word. The mood had been disrupted but not destroyed. But this time Sarah was determined to do things her way; she might not be anywhere near as experienced as Jareth, but she'd heard enough from her friends to know what a man might like done to his body. When she flipped him over on his back and proceeded to lay a trail of light kisses down his chest and abdomen, the gasp he let out told her how right she was.

She continued to her destination, hesitated a moment, then made her move.

Jareth almost levitated off the bed at the feel of her lips and tongue, moaning her name over and over again until he could no longer stand it. He pulled her away, hauling her up to press feverish lips to hers, one knee nudging her legs apart, bringing a gasp of equal pleasure from her own lips as he sank deep within her.

Even if Elena had returned at that moment it wouldn't have been enough of a distraction to stop either one of them. They were too caught up in the intensity of their movements to notice anything outside each other's body as they once again crested at nearly the same moment, Sarah slightly ahead of Jareth, her hands digging deep into his shoulders and her legs wrapped tightly around his narrow waist.

When Jareth had collapsed against her, when Sarah finally, reluctantly, untangled her legs from around his waist and set about taking care of the usual messy aftermath of love-making, only then did she dart a cautious glance around the room. No one was there, of course, but still, perhaps Jareth had the right idea about magic-proofing the place when the two of them were occupied with each other.

She suggested as much as she returned to bed, snuggling sleepily up against his shoulder, reveling in the feel of his arm around her waist. "I'll take care of it, never fear," Jareth mumbled, then they both fell fast asleep, content with each other and the world at large.


	14. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

And so they lived happily ever after.

As if.

No, they fought, they made up, they fought again, usually over Toby and Zander, but sometimes over other things as well.

Toby rebelled as a teenager, as did his nephew Zander a few short years later; he idolized his uncle, and the fact that they were so close in age made them close companions in mischief as well. Once, they even ran away together, investigating the mysterious world of the Aboveground much to Sarah and Jareth's consternation. Well, Sarah was upset, especially for Toby. He'd adjusted so well; would returning to the world into which he'd been born stir long-hidden memories? And Zander, he was half-human; what would being in his mother's world do to him?

Ah, but those are stories for another day. For now, be content, as Sarah and Jareth are, cradled in one another's arms, Zander sleeping peacefully in his basket in Elena's room, and Toby snoozing in his own castle in the Summerlands.

**The End**

**

* * *

**

_A/N: I realized I never truly said good-bye to this story, which I had a blast writing, just as I'm having a blast writing my other Labyrinth story, "A Mirror Darkly." I have an even darked Laby story in mind, but I'm not sure about writing it. I'll think about it. But thank you, in the meantime, for all your kind words. A sequel may be in the making some day._


End file.
